THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


i 


THE 


BATTLE  OF  MONTEREY, 

'      '-... 


OTHER  POEMS. 


BY  WILLIAM   F.   MARVIN. 


Oh  there  are  tones  from  broken  hearts, 
That  none  but  broken  hearts  can  feel ; 

When  memory  to  the  mind  imparts, 
What  death  alone  can  heal. 


DANVILLE,  KY. 

PUBLISHED  BY  A.  S.  M'GRORTY. 
1851. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851, 

BY  A.  S.  M'GRORTY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Kentucky. 


- 

TO   THE  READER. 


In  presenting  to  you  these  poems,  I  have  had  three  ends 
in  view  ;  firstly,  to  better  somewhat  my  condition  in  life  ; 
secondly,  to  gratify  my  own  feelings ;  and  thirdly,  to  comply 
with  the  wishes  and  urgent  solicitations  of  acquaintances 
and  friends. 

I  am  not  unaware  of  the  many  imperfections  that  must 
necessarily  be  attached  to  the  writings  of  men  of  my  class  ; 
daily  dependent  upon  the  immediate  resources  of  my  own 
labour  for  subsistance,  with  feelings  delicately  sensitive,  and 
habits,  not  always  under  the  strict  control  of  consistency  ; 
few  can  appreciate  how  deeply  I  have  at  times  suffered  in 
mind,  while  begging  my  brothers  of  the  earth  to  give  me 
leave  to  toil.  I  cannot  hope  by  these  remarks  to  court 
favor  or  avert  criticism,  they  may,  however,  at  least  tend  to 


762919 


Vlll  TO   THE   READER. 

soften  the  latter.  The  lines  must  speak  for  themselves  ;  and 
an  enlightened,  and  I  hope  indulgent  public,  be  the  judges  ; 
if  they  be  well  received,  I  shall  indeed  be  gratified  ;  if  con 
demned,  I  will  rest  content  with  the  solace  they  have  af 
forded  my  own  heart,  in  its  dark,  dreary,  and  lonesomest 
hours. 

W.  F.  MARVIN. 


CONTENTS 


The  Battle  of  Monterey,  13 

The  Advising  Wish,  .  6V 

Filial  Affection,  .  .  70 

I  have  been  true  to  thee,  71 

On  the  Death  of  my  Mother,  73 
Lines  on  the  Death  of  J. 

M.  Harrison,  ..•  .  77 

What  is  Life?  .  .  77 

Why  Part  we  in  Sorrow  ?  78 

There  's  a  dear  Little  Thief,  79 
Lines  on  the  Death  of  an 

Infant,  .  .'  »;  •  v  "80 

The  Bowl,  ...  81 
The  Flag  of  the  Louisville 

Legion,  ...  82 

An  Acrostic  to  a  Mother,  83 

Despondency, .  ,  83 

To ,  ...  84 

Song — Come  Listen,  .  85 

To  May,  ...  86 

Acrostic  to  M.  T.  N.,  .  87 

To  my  Mother,  .  .  88 
Epigram,  .  .  .89 
Lines  on  the  Death  of  Mrs: 

Marvin's  Mother,  .  89 

Song,  ....  90 

The  First  Roses  of  Spring,  91 

Smiles  and  Tears,  .  .  92 

To  Sorrow,  ...  93 

To .  .  .  .  94 

Lines  on  Clifton  Grove,  94 

A  Picture,  .  .  .  .  96 

Those  Ringlets,  .  .  '  97 


The  Sailor  Boy,      .         .         98 

Lines  addressed  to  Friends,   99 

Beauty's  Bowers,    . 

The  Parting,  . 

Song — Here's  a  Bumper, 

Acrostic  to  E.  B.  W.      . 

Farewell  to  S.         : 

The  Wish,      .      '  . 

Love  and  the  Butterfly, 

P.  E.  Wilson  to  his  Sister, 

Lines  on  the  Death  of  P.  E. 

Wilson,       ... 
The  Mother's  Lament  for 

her  Son, 

To  one  I  once  met, 
Lines  on  a  Portrait 
To  E.  H.  P.  T. 

To  Miss 

To  E.  T. 


Opening  Lines, 

To  M.  W. 

Invocation  to  Sleep, 

To  M.  H.  F.  S.       . 

The  Usurer,    . 

Lines  written  at  Seralvo, 

Here  lies  poor  Tom,       .  2 

My  Native  Bells,    . 

On  the  Death  of  Miss  M. 

Mitchell,     . 
Song  to  Gen.  Z.  Taylor, 
On  hearing  of  the  Death  of 

my  Father, 
To , 


100 
102 
103 
103 
104 
105 
105 
107 

109 

110 
111 
112 
113 
113 
114 
115 
116 
116 
118 
118 
120 
121 
122 

125 
126 

128 
129 


CONTENTS. 


The  Broken  Heart, 

130 

The  Slanderer, 

131 

The  Past,       .  .    \     .'V.  • 

133 

To  Alpha,      V      ',.     '.  '.V 

134 

The  Reply,     .        .  .      -,  ." 

134 

The  Consolation,    .       "•.  .  - 

136 

Beauty's  Smile, 

1-37 

Lines  on  the  Death  of  Mrs. 

M.  Young,  .     •  •»'•.  -»».'. 

138 

Religion,         .         .  "  ,  . 

139 

Lines  to  W.  F.  M.,      '  .  ; 

141 

The  Reply,     . 
On  the  Death  of  Major  P. 

142 

N.  Barbour,        .       ', 

'143 

Song—  The  Bowl,  .      ;'•  \ 

145 

Lines  for  an  Album,      '«*  ',  . 

146 

To  Charlotte,     ,1'  *.    ',-.'. 

147 

To  Kate,         .   '    .  M  .  " 

148 

ToM.  W.,      ... 

J49 

Song  —  How  sweet,      r    J  . 

150 

Song  to  M.  S.  C.  L. 

151 

To  S.  A.  S.,   .        . 

152 

A  leaf  from  my  Journal, 
War  and  Humanity,  '     . 

153 
153 

Tn          ^  • 

1  *\*\ 

Sorrowing  Stanzas, 

166 

Farewell,        .         .        «V 

157 

ToC.  M.,        .        ,        .' 

158 

Tn  Miss                •*• 

1  ^\Q 

Lament  of  Mrs.  R.  B.  Me 

Grorty,        .         .  _  '  . 

159 

oOQ£T  to  Jtfl^f 

160 

Love,      -        .     "'*.''".*' 

161 

TOM.  s.,    *...  •  .: 

162 

ToS.  A.,    J    . 

163 

To  M.  J,  M.. 

163 

To  MissM,-  ..       .'.     '  ,.-- 
To  A.  J.  B.  J.,      \ 
For  an  Album,  •    . 
Hope  in  the 'Future, 
The  feelings  of  J,  Noble, . 
Lines  suggested  at  a  Love- 
Feast, 


169 


Lines  from  the  Rio  Grande,  170 
To  W.  F.  M.  by  his  brother,  172 
ToM.  T.  P.  R.,  .  .  173 

To  A.  S 174 

Song — I  love  not,  ,.  .  174 
To  S.  E.  W.,  .  -  .  .••  176 

The  Mexican  War,  •'/  176 
Life's  Young  Scenes,  .•  17$ 
Paraphrase,  .  ' .  • ,  .  180 
The  New  Year,  •.  <  ,-,  181 
To  M.  T.  ,  .  ...  183 
To  M.  S.  C.  L.  .  .  184 
My  Past,  .V'  .-  X  186 
To  W.  F.  M.  by  his  brother,  186 
Dirge  ...  ' .''  '  v  188 
Fragment,  *•'.  ..'  .  189 
The  Black  Cap,  -..  .  192 
Despondency,  '  ;.  .  193 
Thoughts,  .  .  '  .  194 
Lament,  .  ..*...  195 
The  Lone  Old  Man,  .  1% 
New  Year's 'Address,  1850,  198 
Lines  on  hearing  of  the  Death 

of  John  B.  Lapsley,  202 
Desultory  Thoughts,  .  203 
New  Year's  Address,  1851,  207 
Love's  Serenade,  .  .  213 
My  Husband's  Love,  .  214 
The  Harrodsburg  Spring,  216 


r*  Battle  of  J&ontmq. 


r»-  •';.".'       i  ">..  '•-.*'•  i" 

,.,.  ', 

TO    THE    MEMORY   OF    , 

GENERAL  ZACHARY  TAYLOR, 


THE  BRAVE  HEROES 

WHO    FELL    DURING   THE    LATE    MEXICAN   CAMPAIGN, 

THIS  POEM 

OF    THE    BATTLE    OF   MONTEREY, 

IS     MOST     RESPECTFULLY     DEDICATED; 

BY   THEIR   BEREAVED    FRIEND   AND   COMPANION    IN   ARMS, 

W.  F.  MARVIN. 

?    »'      »  '. 

•'    - 
>   '  '  . 


*:  <:     '* 

":  > 


/•'•a* 


THE  BATTLE  OF  MONTEREY. 

•  .'  •  • 

WITH    DESCRIPTIONS   OF   THE    ENCAMPMENTS    AND   DIFFERENT   SCENES 
AROUND   THE   CITY. 

IN  this  fair  land  of  strife,  whose  bright  blue  skies 
Smile  o'er  ne'er  fading  fields  of  emerald  dyes  ; 
Whose  clust'ring  vines  and  overhanging  bowers, 
Shade  in  soft  beauty  every  season's  flowers  ; 
Whose  blossom'd  groves  bear  odors  on  each  breeze 
That  steals  in  kisses  through  the  spicy  trees  : 
Whose  mountain  springs  in  gushing  streamlets  flow, 
And  irrigate  the  fertile  vales  below— 
Where  luscious  fruits  in  rich  luxuriance  hide, 
Or  in  the  glen,  or  by  the  mountain's  side; 
And  all  the  sweets  that  southern  suns  bestow, 
In  gay  profusion  and  wild  beauty  grow. 

Where  the  eagles  wing  their  way, 
From  the  tow'ring  Walnut  Grove  ; 

And  the  bubb'ling  springs  in  play, 
Down  the  valley  winding  rove  — 


-    £   < 


14  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

•       *~  .T     y 

V.    -  ':      r      '      ;.     «  -v'X:  .'* 

In  the  simplest  tent  around,1 

May  our  Aged  Chief  be  found. 

No  pomp — or  pride — around  him  clin,gs", 

• 

Or  gay  parade  its  glitter  brings  ; 
A  stool,  and  table,  sparely  spread, " 
A  blanket,  and  loose  straw  for  bed  ; 

While  all  around  in  easy  care, 
rf*' 

Bespeaks  the  plain  old  soldier  thene.: 

« .  •  *.  •         ,   •      is".  • 

And  yet — there's  grandeur  on  his  brow, 

And. calmness  in  his  steady  eye  ; 
And  through  that  mien  so  placid  now, 

Beams  forth  a  soul  would  nobly  die — 
If  death  can  hurl  his  venom'd  dart, 
Through  one  who  lives  in  every  heart ; 
Whose  earliest,  latest  strife,  has  known 
His  Country's  weal  before  his  own  ; 
And  oh  may  he  long  live  to  prove, 
Her  honor,  gratitude,  and  love. 
Sublimely  great,  he  stands  alone, 

Upon  the  mountain  of  his  fame, 
As  Admiration,  like  a  zone, 

Pays  circling  tribute  to  his  name  ; 
While  Envy's  microscopic  eye 
But  clears  the  mist-clouds  from  his  sky. 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  15 

V 

_   -,-    1       ' 
Athwart  his  tent — beneath  his  care, 

The  swarthy  natives  spread  their  stores  ; 
And  marking  them  securely  there, 

Bless  the  rude  War  that  crowds  their  shores ; 
While  doubling  on  their  charge  each  day, 
They  battle  on  the  soldier's  pay.  Lr*3J 

Wind  we  down  the  landscape's  vale, 
Where  the  silver  brooklet  flows ; 

Where  the  lilies  floating  pale, 
Kiss  the  over-hanging  rose  ; 

And  the  water-cresses  lay, 

On  the  rills  in  gentle  play ; 

And  the  hazels  bending  o'er, 

WTave  their  richly  kernel 'd  store  ; 

Where  the  orange  blossoms  fling, 

Odors  on  the  breeze's  wing ; 

And  the  cascade  waterfall 

•"?. .    '*    *  '•       '•  •  • 

Leaps  from  out  its  rocky  hall ; 

Where  the  dappled  fawn  awakes, 
Bounding  through  the  ferny  brakes ; 
And  the  mimic  bird,  in  play, 
Mocks  the  ring-dove's  plaintive  lay  ; 
And  the  linnet  plumes  her  wings, 
While  her  mate  his  carol  sings ; 


•  '«•-    ^H>  ° 

A 
BATTLE   OF   MONTEREY. 

-  ''    ••"      O#-'  %*  - 

And  the  gay-wing'd  paroquet, 

Picks  the  newly  ripen'd  sweet ; 
Or  macaw,  of  scarlet  plume, 
Scatters  round  the  fig-tree's  bloom  ; 
Or  the  butterflies  unfold     .  *: 
Wings  of  purple,  green,  and  gold  ; 
Daisies  white,  and  rosy-lipp'd, 
Violets  in  the  azure  dipp'd  ; 
Honey  bees  in  light  wing'd  shower, 
Sipping  sweets  from  every  flower ; 
Century  plants,  of  gorgeous  plume, 
Proudly  waved  o'er  humbler  bloom, 
Twined  with  glory's  morning  flower, 
Sleeping,  by  the  noontide's  hour. 

Here  a  grot  and  there  a  cell, 
Caved  within  a  moss  grown  dell ; 
Overhung  by  creeping  vine, 
Jas'mine,  or  sweet  eglantine  ; 
Here  the  gurgling  stream  is  sped, 
O'er  the  shelving  rocky  bed  ; 
Where  the  cistern'd  waters  stay 
Ere  they  wind  their  devious  way; 
And  the  rose-buds  vainly  hide — 
Mirror'd  in  the  silver  tide  ; 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  17 

And  the  smooth  white  pebbles  show, 

Underneath  the  crystal  flow. 

«•  '  *•  *  • 

Yet  'tis  only  here  and  there, 

That  the  gold-wing'd  beams  appear  ; 
Canopied — and  round  about, 
Woven  blossoms  bar  them  out ; 
Singing  birds  that  know  no  fear, 
Warble  from  the  branches  near, 
And  music  this  sweet  solitude, 
In  warblings  to  their  callow  brood. 
Steps  adown  the  brooklet's  side, 
By  nature  graded — meet  the  tide — 
Here  at  eve  the  maidens  hie, 
Glancing  round  with  cautious  eye  ; 
Doff  their  loose  attire — and  lave 
,  •    In  the  cool  caressing  wave  ; 

Merge  their  glowing  limbs  in  play, 
Underneath  the  yielding  way  ; 
While  the  lucid  waves  above, 
Only  veil  the  scene  in  love, 
As  the  sun  retires  to  hide 
A  blush,  behind  the  mountain's  side. 
Such  shades  of  dreamy  loveliness, 
Remembrance  ever  wakes  to  bless  ; 


18  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

-  ..    V  %^  •  V":  p*    ' 

They  smiling  on  the  bosom  lie, 

Like  a  moonlit  summer  sky, 
Or  a  glimpse  of  Eden's  Bowers, 
With  Eve  beside  its  streams  and  flowers ; 
Ah  grief,  that  War,  with  blood-stain'd  feet, 
Should  desolate  a  scene  so  sweet. 

Hide,  hide  your  heads,  ye  blossoms,  fruits,  and  flowers ; 
And  you,  ye  streamlets,  seek  more  peaceful  bowers : 
A  crimson  tide,  from  carnage  wild  and  rude, 
In  cruel  pomp  affects  your  solitude  ; 
The  dread  magnificence  of  struggling  war, 
In  deep-mouth'd  thunder — bellowing,  shouts  afar  ; 
And  the  rent  air,  from  caverns  wild  and  drear, 
Wakes  fearful  echoes  on  the  wilder'd  ear. 

Deep  valley'd  'tween  huge  mountains  high, 
Whose  broad  tops  kiss  the  deep  blue  sky ; 
While  misty,  gray-wreathed  fleecy  clouds, 
Hang  loosely  'round  their  sides,  like  shrouds, 
In  proud,  magnificent  array, 
Gleam  the  bright  domes  of  Monterey. 
Far  around  yon  mountain's  base, 

While  the  stars  sleep  in  the  sky  ; 
WORTH,  in  glory's  eager  chase, 
Wings  to  raise  the  battle-cry. 

•      -     * 


BATTLE    OF     MONTEREY.  19 

McCullough  and  Gille-spey2  lead 

In  reconnoitre,  o'er  the  plain  ; 
While  Smith,  and  Scott,  and  Longstreet,8  speed 

Their  brave  troops  o'er  the  trampled  slain ; 
As  gallant  Duncan's4  thunder  spreads 
Its  grape  like  hail  'round  hostile  heads. 
Now  Worth  the  second  fortress  gains, 

While  Childs5  storms  wild,  the  Palace  nigh, 
And  Stamford6  the  charge  maintains, 

As  Scott  and  Ayers7  fight  bravely  by, 
And  Vinton  and  brave  Halloway,8 
Earn  lasting  glory  in  the  fray. 
Shrivner,  Merchant,  "Wainwright,9  and 

Montgomery,10  the  breastwork  gain  ; 
While  Rowland,11  and  his  daring  band 

The  cannon's  thunder  loud  unchain  ; 
See,  his  brave  troops  upheaving  now 
The  mortar,  to  the  steep  hill's  brow. 
The  Nicholls's,  Clark,  and  McCoun,12 

With  fame  their  bright  swords  crimson  o'er  ; 
And  Blanchard's  garland  of  renown, 

Will  bloom  more  green  till  time's  no  more ; 
While  every  private  in  the  fray, 
Shares  equal  glory  through  the  day. 


20  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

Folds  of  smoke  and  flashing  flame, 
Wrap  the  broken  Palace  walls  ; 

'  V  '   '     *  •  '•  *' 

Deep'ning,  widening  echoes  claim 
Voices,  where  the  thunder  falls  ; 
And  the  discomfited  foe, 
Fleeing,  seek  the  vales  below,.      ? 
While  the  dead  and  dying  lay, 
Gory  bulwarks  in  the  way  ; 
As  our  flag  in  triumph  waves, 
A  star-shroud  over  foemen's  graves. 

Now  the  din  of  battle  speeds, 
Where  the  brave  old  TAYLOR  leads, 
Among  the  wounded  and  the  dead, 
The  grape-shot  hurtling  round  his  head  ; 
Dread  focus  of  a  mighty  power, 
Triumphing  o'er  the  battle  hour.  ' 
Firm  in  the  conflict  by  his  side, 
BLiss,13  bravely  stemming  danger's  tide, 
Shields  his  loved  chief  where  death  is  found, 
Or  bears  his  high  commands  around, 
Mingling  mid  spears,  and  flash  and  cry, 
And  bayonets  gleam,  and  agony. 

Now  forts  on  forts  before  them  lay, 
Like  dark,  death  struggles  in  their  way  ; 


BATTLE    OF     MONTEREY.  21 

As  on,  the  troops  of  Baltimore, 

"••*..»  ,  ,  .     *  flf"'         -\  * 

In  rashness  madly  rush  before  ; 

And  meeting  foes  on  every  side, 

Yield  'mid  the  deep'ning  gory  tide. 

See  the  gallant  QUITMAN"  lead 

His  well  train'd  warriors  o'er  the  plain  ; 

The  fated  fourth  his  ranks  precede — 

An  immortality  to  gain  ; 

While  Juan's15  waters  red  with  gore, 

And  choked  with  slain,  spread  o'er  the  shore. 

Braving  still  the  galling  fire 

Of  grape-shot,  swept  at  every  breath ; 
Their  danger  only  feeds  their  ire, 

%         •  *     '  ;•'**' 

And  leads  them  on  the  front  of  death  ; 
Enveloped  wide  in  smoke  and  flame, 
They  fighting  gain  a  deathless  name. 
The  brave  McCLUNG,16  with  seeming  wings, 

Amid  the  thunder's  madd'ning  roar, 
Across  the  ditch  like  lightning  springs, 

The  ramparts  escalading  o'er — 
While  Mississippi,  Tennessee, 
Wade  on  through  blood  to  victory. 
Hark  to  the  yell  of  triumph  rise 

Above  the  cannon's  deafening  cry, 

. ±*.     x    ' 


22  L,      'BATTLE    OF    MONTEREX- 

As  o'er  the  plain  the  foeman  flies 

In  wild  confusion,  on  to  die  ; 
.    Or  makes  one  feeble  effort  more, 
Then  gives  his  desperation  o'er. 
'.  'V  Now  from  Palace  roof  and  tower, 

Parapet  and  barricade, 
Death,  broad-wing'd  in  ghastly  power, 

Claims  the  victims  War  has  made  ; 
While  quivering  limbs  are  lopp'd  in  strife, 
And  wearied  eyelids  close  on  life. 
See  the  Second  Infantry, 

And  the  Third,  the  tempest  brave  ; 
They,  while  blood  is  pouring  free, 

Rush  for  glory  or  a  grave  ; 
And  scaling  up  the  esplanade, 
Mock  the  red  slaughter  Death  has  made. 
Now  Ohio  cleaves  her  way, 

With  gallant  WATSONIT  by  her  side ; 
He  sought  the  darkest,  deepest  fray, 

And  bravely  fighting,  nobly  died  ;    '  . 
His  last  words,  "  On,  my  brave,  brave  boys!" 
While  vengeance  shouts  as  Watson  dies. 
Street  and  alley,  square  and  lane, 

Ringing  with  the  shout  of  woe  ; 

*> 


BATTLE    OF    MONTERE-Y.  23 

Teem  with  groans  and  heaps  of  slain, 

Dam  the  crimson  current's  flow ; 

'  '  •      '4f 

And  oh,  when  much  loved  Barbour  died, 

Deep  anguish  stay'd  the  battle's  tide. 
Williams,  Terret,  Morris,  Wood, 

Field,  and  Irwin,19  sink  to  die  ; 
Their  well-weigh'd  swords  sheathed  thick  with  blood, 

Are  clutch'd,  as  on  the  ground  they  lie ; 
While  grasping,  struggling,  side  by  side, 
They  splash  the  life  spill'd  bubbling  tide. 
Allen,  Hoskins,  Putnam,  Hett, 

Dilworth,  Hazlet,20  bleeding  fall ; 

t    f    -^i  i  *  I  ^ 

Not  unavenged,  for  comrades  yet 

Their  deeds  of  vengeance  oft  recall ;    ' 
Bainbridge,  Bowen,  and  Caldwell,21 

Mansfield,  Mitchell,  Smith,  and  Price,22 
The  glorious  meed  of  victory  swell, 

And  urge  a  nation's  grateful  voice. 
Harlan,  Herman,  Dowing,  Lay,23 

Cooper,  Russel,24  each  will  frame, 
With  \Veller,  and  Lamar,25  that  day, 

Green  wreaths  around  the  brow  of  Fame. 
Now  falls  the  gallant  brave  Tiree,26 

Whose  valor  all  the  world  may  prize  ; 


24 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


The  foes  within  the  breastwork  flee, 

And  Death  grows  pale  as  Tiree  dies  ; 
While  Henry,  Thomas,  Johnston,  share, 
A  lauding  nation's  thanks  and  care. 
Twiggs,  and  Henderson,  and  Lear,27 

Davis,  Campbell,  and  McClung  j28 
Garland,  Wilson,29  each  will  share 

Fame,  by  future  ages  sung. 
Abercrombie,  Armstrong,  Moor,30 

'  Patterson,  Lamotte,  Calhbun  ;31    . 
Scudder,  Graham,  Howard,32  pour 

Their  vengeance,  'mid  the  battle's  noon. 
Alexander,  Anderson,33 

Hooker,  Johnson,34  and  brave  Bragg  ; 
Webster,  Bliss,  and  Wagaman,35 

Ridgely,  Donaldson,  and  Craig  ;36 
May,  and  Whiting,  and  Belknap  :37 

And  Croghan38  —  generous  as  brave, 
Who  met  me  since  in  danger's  gap, 

And  risk'd  his  own  my  life  to  save. 
Van  Buren,  Eaton,  Scarret,  Pope,39 

With  Garnet,  Kirby,  and  Monroe  f° 
Each  in  his  own  immediate  scope, 

Wrought  out  the  City's  overthrow  : 

w  -ti 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  25 

Distinguished  by  their  chief  in  name, 
And  sculptured  on  their  country's  fame. 
Who  can  paint  the  hideous  fray, 

On  the  gory  field  of  pain, 
Where  the  sabre's  flashing  ray    '  ; 

Drinks  the  life-blood's  latest  drain  ? 
And  the  lines  of  pointed  steel, 
Meet  the  lancer's  headlong  wheel ;  *  !*  ••? 

Horses  plunge  with  madd'ning  ke, 
Through  the  blood,  and  smoke  and  fire  ; 
Heaps  of  dead  are  piled  in  vain — 
Still  the  ranks  close  up  again. 
Hark,  the  volley  urged  by  death, 
Peals  o'er  groans  and  gurgling  breath  ; 
Lancers  that  in  fury  fly, 
Stake  their  victims  down  to  die  ; 
Now  the  bayonet — purple-dyed, 

Wreaking — leaves  the  warrior's  side  ; 

• 

Bitter  strife,  and  scorn,  and  hate, 
'    ,'«     Urge  them  to  their  gory  fate  ; 

Mouth-like  wounds  spout  blood  around, 
Horses,  riders,  strew  the  ground. 
Widening,  deep'ning,  now  the  tide 
Of  carnage  gleams  on  every  side  ; 
3 


26  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

Th£  lurid  flash,  the  thunder  cry, 
The  wailing  burst  of  agony, 
As  ball  or  shell  its  havoc  flings, 
Upon  a  thousand  death-fledged  wings. 

See  the  dark-eyed  Matron41  come, 
From  her  lonely  cottage  home, 
Where  her  babes  in  slumber  lie, 
Dreaming  not  of  danger  nigh  ; 
Climbing  o'er  the  heaps  of  slain, 
To  assuage  the  thirst  of  pain  ;<  >.    ' 
Glancing  round  with  eager  trace,    * -.  « • 
For  one  dear,  familiar  face — 
Her  partner's— r whose  last  kiss  is  now 
Scarce  cold  upon  her  polish'd  brow. 
Still  doth  she  her  pitcher  bring, 
From  the  cool,  refreshing  spring  ; 
Friend  or  foe,  alike  may  share 
Bounteously  her  angel  care  ; 
Here  she  bathes  a  fever'd  brow, 
Wets  a  dekth-parch'd  lip,  and  now-  . 
Pillows  with  her  arm  one  head,.  -£,' 
Raised  amid  surrounding  dead ; 
Anguish  marks  his  filmy  eye, 
Beaming  its  last  ray,  to  die. 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

Oh  !  see  her  clasp  that  lifeless  form,      .  ^ 
Grief  gathering  o'er  her  like  a  storm ; 
While  kissing  lip,  and  cheek,  and  brow, 
That  feels  no  warm  caresses  now, 
A  mangled  mass  the  warrior  lies, 
With  pallid  lip  and  death-seal'd  eyes. 

A  thousand  thoughts  that  moment  come, 
And  whisper  of  her  babes  at  home  ; 
With  all  the  joys  affection  knew, 
His  first  embrace,  his  last  adieu  ; 
The  .cross  on  her  white  bosom,  bare, 
His  earliest  gift,  her  latest  care, 
She  kiss'd,  as  death-struck,  by  his  side 
She  struggling  fell,  and  bleeding,  died. 
I  saw  the  broken  pitcher  lay 
Beside  her,  as  I  pass'd  that  way  ; 
A  smile  had  stolen  her  parting  breath, 
And  linger'd  on  her  lip  in  death. 

Again  Ohio  winds  her  way, 

With  Mississippi  by  her  side, 
To  where  the  forts  beleaguer'd  lay, 

And  stems  the  lancer's  whelming  tide, 
Who  charging,  meet  the  flaming  breath 
Of  smoke-wreath'd  volleys,  hurl'd  in  death. 


28  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


See,  where  the  gen'rous  Bena42  bears, 

The  wounded  Freeman  from  the  plain  ; 
A  prey  to  peril,  few  would  dare, 

He  totters  on  o'er  heaps  of  slain, 
His  friend  still  urging  him  to  fly, 
"  Leave,  leave  me  here,  or  both  will  die." 
And  as  the  lancers  closing  prest 

Upon  the  warrior's  laden  track  ; 
He  raised  his  musket  to  his  breast, 

And  peal'd  its  echoing  thunder  back  ; 
And  shielding  his  loved  comrade's  side, 
Woke  death  around,  and  fighting  died. 
Down  the  rugged  Palace  hill, 

Where  the  foes  in  terror  flee  ; 
Worth,  of  nerved  and  iron  will, 

Presses  on  to  victory. 
Clashing  bayonets  and  spears, 
Children's  cries  and  women's  tears  ; 
Shrieks,  and  moans,  and  blood  and  gore  ; 
Roofs  with  corpses  piled  o'er ; 

*  •"*>"**»** 

Streets,  and  squares,  and  barricade, 
Human  slaughter-pens  are  made. 

Now,  amid  the  bloody  strife, 
Raging  o'er  the  slippery  way, 


-, 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  29 


Where  the  crimson  tide  of  life 

Hides  the  dying  as  they  lay  ; 
Loud  the  groans  of  anguish  fly, 
Mingling  with  the  battle  cry. 
Where  the  rifle,  wing  of  death, 

And  the  cannon  booming  loud, 
Echoed  by  the  musket's  breath, 

Cleave  the  smoke-wreathed  thunder-cloud  ; 
And  the  rent  shell,  from  the  ground 
Scatters  gory  limbs  around  ; 
Sword,  and  battle-axe,  and  spear,    ,^  . 
Stabbing,  hewing  foemen  near ; 
And  the  horse  in  madd'ning  ire, 
Bounding  wild  with  breath  of  fire, 
Tramping  wounded,  dead  and  dying, 
Where  the  battle's  deepest,  flying : 
Foes,  first  met,  in  mortal  strife, 
Quaff  the  purple  flood  of  life  : 
Horse  and  rider  cover'd  o'er, 
With  foam,  and  sweat,  and  bloody  gore, 
Wounded,  gasping,  struggling,  lie 
Together  in  their  agony. 
Where  the  Cemetery  walls, 

Shield  the  long  forgotten  dead  ; 

3* 

• 

4 


30 


.       BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 
V, 

*y '*  <*-••     '•    '  *    3Pf*lu-'  •  \kli  '*' 

Chain-shot,  grape,  and  cannon  balls 

Weave  a  dark  pall  over  head  ; 

* 
And  the  fire-wing'd  death  boom  sweeps, 

WThere  cathedral'd  thunder,43  sleeps. 
The  foe,  gloom-hemm'd  on  every  side, 

Seek  dangerous  sanctuary  now  ; 
As  like  a  whirlpool's  gulphy  tide, 

In  crowds  around  their  church  they  bow 
WTiile  Worth's  wild  gush  of  burning  breat 
Rolls  its  red  glare  in  streams  of  death. 
Foremost  in  the  bloody  fray, 

The  TEXAS  RANGERS  meet  the  fight ; 
Deep  revenge  is  their's  to-day  ; 

And  deeper  still — as  'mid  the  night, 
Through  walls  of  stone  they  pick  their  way ; 
The  ALAMO,  their  battle-cry — 
While  foemen  meet  them,  but  to-die. 
P     On  the  wide  extended  plain, 

Near  the  Black  Fort's  frowning  wall 
Where  the  cannon  balls  like  rain, 

Plough  the  earth  up  as  they  fall ; 
And  the  bombs  come  hissing  by, 
Death-gleams  shooting  through  the  sky 
Brave  Ormsby  and  his  legion  band, 
With-  daring  Rogers  firmly  stand  ; 


r*. 


•i ;.  ••  .V 

'"*  ••  ?:.'.*• 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  31 

*  '      *    '"*  *n&      • 

A  fiery  wall  of  burning  breath, 
Around  the  battery  of  death ; 
Eager  to  gain  a  deathless  name 
Upon  their  country's  scroll  of  fame. 
Twice,  from  out  the  Citadel, 

The  lancers  form'd  to  make  attack, 
And  twice  the  bomb  among  them  fell, 

Driving  their  death-thin'd  squadron  back  ; 
While  high  in  air  brave  Ramsey44  threw 
His  beaver,  shouting  "  That  will  do." 

Down  in  a  hollow,  near  the  mortar's  side, 
A  Dutch  Dragoon  sits,  resting  from  his  ride, 
Upon  his  horse,  a  large-limb'd  fiery  bay, 
While  the  rude  dangers  threat'ning  round  him  play  ; 
And  now  a  ball  has  struck  his  charger's  breast, 
Ranged  through  its  neck,  and  flying,  onwards  prest ; 
The  poor  beast  falls — the  soldier  'neath  him  lies, 
Yet  gains  his  feet  unhurt — I  see  him  rise  ; 
Keeping  the  bridle  still  within  his  hand, 
Close  by  his  favorite's  head  he  takes  his  stand, 
While  tears  fall  thick  adown  his  wayworn  cheek, 
And  his  kind  heart  is  full — too  full  to  speak. 

The  poor  steed  gives  one  shudder — then  a  groan, 
As  its  lip  quivers  'neath  its  dying  moan, 


32  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

The  warrior  pales,  and  as  he  marks  its  end, 

He  sighing  whispers — "  Have  I  lost  mine  friend!" 

Then  raising  both  his  hands  above  his  head, 

He  almost  shrieks  "  Mine  Got,  mine  horse  is  dead." 

At  noon  the  wounded  BUTLER  came 

Amid  our  ranks,  as  ranged  we  stood ; 
A  drooping  warrior,  faint  and  lame, 

With  pallid  cheek,  and  smear'd  with  blood  ; 
"  Be  calm,"  said  he,  "  whate'er  betide  ; 

The  danger  's  great;"  he  paused  again  ; 

"  Yet  well  I  know,  Kentucky  boys 
Will  guard  .their  charge,  or  die  like  men  ;" 
The  steed  that  bore  him  I  had  long  known  well, 
'Twas  Lincoln's  gift,*  to  her  admired  Caldwell. 
Urged  by  his  friends,  he  left  the  field, 

While  gallant  HAMER  took  command  ; 
And  none  more  fit  the  sword  to  wield, 

Or  guide  us  in  a  foeman's  land  ; 
And  when  months  afterwards  he  died, 

Deep  anguish  thrill M  and  wrung  each  breast, 

*  The  Voters  of  Jjincoln  County,  Kentucky,  presented  to  G.  A. 
Caldwell,  after  his  race  for  Congress,  with  J.  F.  Bell,  a  fine  riding 
horse.  This  was  the  horse  General  Butler  was  now  riding. 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  33 


As  ranging  by  his  corpse's  side, 

We  peal'd  a  requiem  o'er  his  rest. 
And  now  the  gallant  SHEPHERD*"  led 

Our  left  battalion  from  the  plain  ; 
And  quick  they  march'd  o'er  heaps  of  dead, 

The  far  off  destined  Fort46  to  gain  : 
While  on  their  way  the  bullets  sped, 
Like  hailstorms,  hurtling  overhead  : 
Their  leader  now,  with  dauntless  eye, 

While  proudly  reining  in  his  steed, 
Calmly  gives  orders  to  deploy,     t    - 

Among  the  tangled  brush  and  reed, 
To  where  San  Juan's  waters  roar, 
O'er  dead  and  dying,  thick  with  gore  ;  ^ 
Ford  the  wild  stream,  'mid  danger's  sport, 
And  shelter  in  the  captured  fort. 
But  oh,  what  scenes  await  them  there — 
To  raise  the  spectres  of  despair  ; 
A  hundred  stiffen'd  corpses  lie, 
With  mangled  limbs,  and  unclosed  eye ; 
And  as  the  pall  of  darkness  spreads 
Its  mantle  o'er  their  grave-yard  beds  : 
These  brave  and  serried  troops  find  rest, 
Each  on  a  lifeless  foeman's  breast : 


• 


•>*  *  v;--.j 

34  BATTLE     OF    MONTEREY. 

'*•:'•        '•.*  '     '' .   it-" '» 

While  sleet  and  rain  in  torrents  pour, 
And  form  a  pool  of  blood  and  gore. 
Meanwhile  our  First  Battalion  stay'd, 
Where  Ramsey's  shells  their  havoc  played  ; 
Till  orders  came  to  bear  away 
The  gun,  to  where  our  comrades  lay. 
'Twas  midnight — on  a  pathless  wild, 

The  loaded  trains  took  devious  route, 
No  star  'mid  storm  and  darkness  smiled, 

To  point  our  destination  out ; 
The  guide,  bewilder'd,  sought  the  track 

Ahead,  while  we,  all  wet  and  cold, 
Awaited,  but  he  came  not  back, 

And  what  his  fate — remains  untold.       -v'< 

. 
On,  on,  'mid  chapparel  and  storm, 

Wildly  uncertain  of  our  way, 
We  strain'd  our  eyes  to  catch  some  form, 

Might  tell  how  far  we  were  astray, 
WTien  lo !  a  rocket  in  the  sky, 
Show'd  the  Black  Fort,  and  danger  nigh. 

•  T'y  •     *',,;.    .  ' 

Changing  our  course  we  onward  sped, 

Feeling  the  way  on  hands  and  knees  ; 
Until  we  reach'd  a  bridge — that  led 

We  knew  not  where — of  fallen  trees  ; 

>  ',-*  f1.  w 


BATTLE    OF     MONTEREY.  35 

t  *  — ^          »'•*•    •  '    ^*  •  C 

And  as  our  team  the  danger  met, 
The  wagon  reel'd,  and  was  upset. 
But  soon  like  Hercules,  our  men 
Upheaved,  and  set  it  right  again ; 
While  now  and  then  a  rocket's  gleam 
Threw  its  red  glare  alon^the  stream. 
Still  our  blind  course  was  far  astray, 
And  struggling  hard  to  gain  our  way — 
The  mortar's  frame,  by  jerking  sped, 

~vf\  -  ^  as  neaved  fr°m  out  the  carriage  bed ; 
And  there  compact  on  end  it  stood, 
Two  tons  in  weight,  submerged  in  mud. 
The  shivering  troops  assay'd  to  raise 

Its  ponderous  form,  but  fail'd  in  power  ; 
The  wagons  had  gone  different  ways, 

And  men  were  sent  the  heath  to  scour, 
And  bring  back  if  it  could  be  seen, 
The  needed  raising  power  machine. 
Another  hour  elapsed  ere  we 
Had  heaved  the  cumberous  engine  free ; 
When  on  we  march'd,  we  knew  not  where, 
In  pain — but  never  in  despair. 
Oh  God,  it  was  a  fearful  night, 

Upon  that  gloomy  field  of  blood  : 


' 


•>»  *i'W  '"A  » 

V  *         ...    $•    ,  •    ,     :.«;     V.     '    ^ 

SO'  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


And  each  man  bless'd  the  dawning  light, 

That  pointed  where  our  white  tents  stood. 
In  hunger,  weariness,  and  care, 

»          » 

We  reach'd  the  camp — but  not  to  rest ; 
The  baggage  wagons47  had  been  there, 
And  all  we  own'd  was  in  them  press'd, 

Apd  many  never  met  again 

'jk" *  v.  M\  •  ."     ^Efl 

Their  knapsacks,  through  the  whole  campaign. 

The  twenty-second's  evening  came, 

And  with  it  rain  in  torrents  fell  ; 
When  lo,  the  sergeant  call'd  my  name, 

To  take  the  long  night's  watching  spell  :'*',^« 
WTiere  forty-seven  prisoners  lay, 
Who  had  been  taken  during  day. 
Between  reliefs — I  laid  my  head 

Upon  a  thorn  bush  growing  nigh : 
And  almost  slept  as  sleep  the  dead, 

Till  waken'd  by  the  watch-guard's  cry  ; 
When  shivering  'neath  the  sleet  and  rain, 
I  took  my  wearying  post  again. 

-'•«        v          •    '  C 

The  morning  breaks  in  beams  of  gold, 

Above  the  tall  Camanche's  brow  : 
And  mists  that  hid  the  skies,  unfold 

Their  fleeces  in  the  sunlight  now, 


*. 


. 

• 

-•   •*,'  • 
v  '  **'  ii~->    ' 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  37 


*  Kk>* 

And  all  the  mountains  round  me  claim 
One  burnish'd  sheet  of  golden  flame. 
And  hark,  the  deep,  long  roll  is  heard 

In  echoes  from  the  thund'ring  drum  ; 
And  "  Arms,  to  arms,"  is  now  the  word, 

As  each  man  into  rank  has  come  ; 
The  swords  and  bayonets  glittering  bright 

Upon  the  morning's  yellow  light. 

.*• "'  '**+£'   .  .•  ''.'•• 

We  march  within  the  city's  view, 

"'  if 

The  way  our  left  battalion  's  gone  ; 
Rank  after  rank  defiling  through — 

Who  arms  present,  and  cheer  us  on  : 
Then,  orders  wait,  where  olives  spread 

Their  branching  blossoms  overhead. 

^?" 

A  late  deserted  ranch  hard  by, 

Has  cooling  springs  of  water  nigh ; 

And  fine  young  ears  of  corn  grow  there, 

Which  roasted,  make  delicious  fare  ;  •  '+'• 

'  ^*   *•*.  • 

While  every  heart  seems  gay  and  light, 
And  proudly  braves  the  expected  fight. 
In  the  distance,  thundering  loud, 

Grape,  and  shells,  and  cannon-balls 
Leave  behind  a  smoke-wreathed  cloud, 

jfc     "•  , 

And  battering  rend  the  castled  walls  ; 

o  * 

4 

*:^T^SPT 

<**5$ 

-  *• 


38  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

While  not  a  thought  is  breathed  or  known, 
But  deems  the  battle  all  our  own. 
At  intervals  the  firing  stays, 

But  soon  resumes  with  fearful  power, 
While  rumor  lies  a  thousand  ways, 

1 

And  contradicts  herself  each  hour : 
Oh  God,  how  awful  'tis  to  stand 
And  contemplate  the  spirit  land. 
See,  some  have  climb'd  the  olive  trees, 

To  catch  a  glimpse  of  tower  or  fort ; 
And  watch  with  pride  the  fitful  breeze 

That'  waves  our  flag  in  wanton  sport ; 
While  now  and  then  a  cheek  grows  pale, 
As  home  comes  wing'd  on  memory's  gale. 
Dear  Home,  thou  Eden  of  the  heart, 

Swe,et  scene  of  love-born,  cherish'd  joys  ; 
A  sunbeam  lighting  war's  red  chart, 

And  pointing  where  our  duty  lies ; 
For  who  would  take  a  sullied  fame 

Back  to  the  child  that  bears  his  name  ? 

'_\   *"v    .  u . "-.     ^ .      \ 

The  wife,  at  home,  all  desolate, 

Hugs  her  lorn  infant  to  her  breast, 
And  fearing  for  its  father's  fate, 

In  choked  sobs  soothes  the  babe  to  rest ; 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  39 

While  every  footstep  passing  by, 
Is  listen'd  to  with  trembling  joy. 

/,  *  w  *        .     xy  '  JP* 

The  maiden,  in  her  bower  reclined, 

While  the  moonbeams  brightly  stream, 
Calls  one  loved  image  to  her  mind — 

A  hidden,  yet  a  cherish'd  theme, 
As  now  a  smile,  and  now  a  tear, 
Comes  with  alternate  hope  and  fear. 
The  mother  finds  no  comfort  nigh — 

Her  fancy  shows  the  field  of  death; 
She  sees  her  loved  one  crush'd  to  die, 

And  almost  hears  his  gurgling  breath  ; 
And  yet  the  tears  refuse  to  start, 
Her  sorrows  lay  deep  in  her  heart. 
The  sister,  by  the  cottage  door, 

In  calm  concern  her  needle  plies, 
Or  reads  her  brother's  letter  o'er — 

While  feeling's  tears,  like  pearls  arise, 
On  finding  'mid  the  battle  scene, 
How  very  near  to  death  he'd  been. 
The  father's  grief  is  lost  in  pride, 

He  deeply  feels,  yet  breathes  no  word, 
And  his  rich  blood  throbs  like  a  tide, 

Whenever  battle  news  is  heard  : 


40  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

And  when  he  hears  we've  gain'd  the  day, 

V  '"  i 

One  tear  will  on  his  glad  cheek  lay. 

'Tis  evening,  and  we  wind  our  course,   .    .   < 

Through  groves  and  fields  of  tangled  route 
And  pass  where  late  the  conflict  hoarse, 

Has  revell'd  wild,  in  groan  and  shout, 
Where  human  carcases  are  strown — 
And  broad- wing'd  vultures  round  have  flown. 
Here  sons  and  sires  together  bled — 

And  maids  and  matrons  gory  lie  ; 
Some  putrified  and  some  just  dead, 

And  some  for  water  wildly  cry, 
Or  in  convulsions  stare  and  start,     ^.%  t " 
Bringing  death-sickness  o'er  my  heart. 
'Tis  dark  and  cold,  the  ground  our  bed, 

I  strive  to  sleep,  but  find  no  rest ; 
The  booms  shine  brightly  overhead, 

And  into  line  each  hour  we're  press'd, 
As  some  scared  sentinel  in  pain,    . 
Fires  on  the  phantom  of  his  brain. 
At  daybreak,  from  a  fort  hard  by,       »: 

A  trumpet  sounded  long  and  loud  ; 
And  white  flag  waved  upon  the  sky, 

As  we  all  gather'd  in  a  crowd, 

V.    V 

,  , 

:'::'•'  - 


BATTLE     OF    MONTEREY.  ..  '  41 

And  hoped  and  fear'd,  and  hoped  again  ; 

"•  ^*c 

Some  said  a  truce — all  said  Amen. 

Our  breakfast  fare  was  scant  to  see, 

We  had  no  biscuit,  meat,  or  flour  ; 
I  had  an  ounce  or  two  of  tea, 

And  shared,  as  far  as  in  my  power; 
While  brave  old  Black  Hawk48  roundly  swore, 
He  ne'er  had  drank  such  tea  before. 
The  herald  from  Ampudia  came, 

And  this  his  modest  proposition  : 
That  they  should  be  allow'd  to  claim 

Their  arms,  effects,  and  ammunition ; 

And  make  a  retrograde  digression, 

_.,..•.*     ..        "••••*.»'  <  *•' 

Leaving  the  town  in  our  possession. 

The  streets  had  swam  with  human  gore, 

The  enemy  had  bravely  fought ; 
Our  chieftain  weigh'd  the  matter  o'er, 

And  felt  as  every  soldier  ought ; 

'<•••*" 
Their  fallen  fortunes  he  respects, 

And  gives  their  side-arms  and  effects.    ' 
Premising  ere  a  week  moved  round, 

They  should  evacuate  the  place  ; 
And  be  by  Rinconardi  bound, 

With  sixty  following  days  of  grace  ; 
4* 


'.'.•; y»    '"  •'  •••  •  •    •  '•'  •  '• 

42  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

•  • » 

Until  each  government  respective, 
Should  make  or  peace  or  war  elective. 
The  sun  lay  bright  on  Fort  and  Tower,49 

The  morn  the  vanquish'd  left  the  town  ; 
I  saw  them  at  an  early  hour, 

Pacing  the  Plazo  up  and  down  ; 
A  weary  grief  press'd  on  each  breast, 
Of  home,  pride,  honor  disposest. 
,  And  as  the  regiments  form'd  to  start, 
«     And  filed  along  the  crowded  square  ; 
Deep  anguish  seem'd  to  fill  each  heart, 

And  women  wept  their  march  to  share, 
;  ;  _  •  Or  threw  them  in  the  wild  steeds'  way, 
And  begg'd  one  other  moment's  stay. 
Around  them  wives  and  sisters  clung, 

And  breathed  the  wailings  of  despair ; 
And  o'er  them  wounded  warriors  hung, 

'And  bless'd  them  with  the  Virgin's  care ; 
And  as  they  wheel'd  away  to  part, 
Faintness  seem'd  shrouding  every  heart. 
Some  stood  like  statues  carved  in  silent  grief,      .  , 

Some  wrung  their  hands — or  wildly  tore  their  hair  ; 
And  some  in  gentle  tears  found  sweet  relief, 
While  others  madly  raved,  in  chafed  despair ; 


*.-,  & 


- 

-  -       •   . 

. 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  43 


'.-'•* 
The  picture  left  its  impress  deep  in  pain, 

Nor  would  I  witness  such  a  scene  again. 

•   .'  .  _>•    -'•'  ••*% 

A  dull,  dark  weariness  hangs  now 

•»'  .        ••'  '.  : 

Upon  our  army's  listless  brow, 

While  every  thought  is  tax'd  to  find 
Some  pleasing  pastime  for  the  mind. 
A  lovely  grove  of  evergreen,    .  ' 
Js  chosen  for  our  camping  scene  ; 
"  t  '  .-Through  which  a  brooklet  winding  flows, 
.'•  r  .-With  violets  bank'd,  and  trailing  rose. 
'A  pleasure  spot,  by  grandeur  bound, 
In  amphitheatre  around  ; 
Where  mountains  hugely  towering  rise, 
And  break  the  clouds  to  breast  the  skies. 
And  merrily  the  axe  resounds 
In  echoes,  through  the  live  oak  bounds  ; 
While  hewing  out  an  open  glade,       •  v». 
That  leaves  on  either  side  a  shade. 
'Tis  curious  to  observe  the  change, 
Like  magic,  wrought  o'er  that  wide  range. 
As  DuERSQN,50  the  brave  and  free, 
Spares  neither  shrub,  nor  root,  nor  tree  ; 
The  wildwood  waving  in  the  morn, 
Ere  evening's  shade  becomes  a  lawn, 


..'*••        . .  • .  ,  w\  ~ 

'  >     "   •  ..  •••*•.'>»*• 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

For  games  of  pleasure,  or  parade, 
"*  Or  drill,  this  smooth  sweet  lawn  is  made. 
Before  the  Colonel's  tent  waves  wide 
Our  silken  flag,51  the  regiment's  pride  ; 
For  many  a  lip  breathed  many  a  prayer, 
When  that  flag  came  within  our  care  ; 
And  many  an  eye  beam'd  many  a  smile, 
And  many  a  tear-gem  dropp'd  the  while,;'  . 
And  many  a  throb  heaved  many  a  heart, 
When  the  last  order  came  to  part ; 
And  many  a  pillow'd  knapsack  knew 
The  tears  that  fond  affection  drew. 
Camp  duties  o'er,  our  men  in  part, 
With  sports  athletic  cheer  the  heart ; 
Foot-ball,  or  bandy,  or  such  games 
As  suit  their  varied  tastes  or  claims  ; 
Some  read,  or  write,  or  ride,  or  walk, 
Or  pass  the  hour  in  chit-chat  talk  ; 
Or  wondering  if  the  look'd  for  mail, 
Will  bring  home-letters  without  fail ; 
While  some — though  interdicted — run 
To  dice,  or  cards,  though  what  is  won 
Is  but  the  fortune  of  a  day, 
To  be  as  idly  thrown  away. 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.        .  45 

v  .  *  v  •  ' ;  '•" 

•  While  others,  whom  I  most  deplore, 
Lie  daily  in  their  tents,  and  snore, 
Uncomb'd,  unwash'd,  unnought,  save  fed, 
Like  hogs,  upon  their  filthy  bed.  i\* 

And  now  a  protest  is  laid  down, 
Keeping  all  idlers  from  the  town  ; 
Quarrels  and  murders  have  arisen,,    ,'.     .  .-. 
In  spite  of  punishments  or  prison  : 
While  some  will  fain  retaliate 
Unjustly,  perhaps,  their  comrade's  fate  ; 
For  oh,  it  stirs  the  blood  to  know, 
A  friend  slain  by  a  common  foe  ; 
^  '    To  hear  him  gasp,  or  see  him  die 
In  wild  convulsive  agony. 
And  thus  prevention  is  well  meant, 
To  save  both  crime  and  punishment. 

:  >»."'-" 

'Tis  in  such  vagrant  hours  as  these, 
When  home  delights  no  longer  please, 
Affection's  soft  refreshing  shower 
Comes  o'er  the  mind  with  angel  power. 
Howe'er  we're  placed,  where'er  we  rove, 
The  heart  craves  something  still  to  love  ; 

And  well  may  I  on  friendship's  shrine, 

* 

Pour  this  warm  incense-lay  of  mirte  ; 


46  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


From  youth  to  age,  my  wand'rings  blend, 
And  yet  I  never  lack'd  a  friend  ; 
And  even  here,  'mid  forests  rude, 
I  owe  deep  debts  of  gratitude, 
.JVTore  deep,  far  more  than  I  can  tell, 
To  Shepherd,  Boyd,  Clay,  and  Caldwell,52 
With  Rogers,  Hardin,  and  McKee, 
Cutter,  Kinkead  and  Dougherty,       .  - 
Akin,  Roseau,  and  McAbee  ; 
With  gen'rous  Marshall,  that  brave  bear, 
Who  wept  the  battle  storm  to  share, 
While  hurrying  on  from  Monterey, 
The  gun,  to  Buena  Vista's  fray. 
But  why,  invidiously  name, 
When  the  whole  corps  holds  equal  claim  ? 

'Tis  sweet  at  morn  or  close  of  day, 

,-•  •• 
Along  the  winding  brook  to  stray  ; 

.        *  •  w 

By  where  the  cannon  glitt'ring  bright, 
Shine  in  the  slanting  yellow  light  ; 
And  listen  when  the  bugle's  tale, 
Winds  its  soft  echoes  down  the  vale, 
Or  on,  where  many  a  gallant  steed, 
Neighs  to  his  mates,  or  champs  his  feed  ; 
As  hitch'd  to  well-stretch'd  cords,  they  sho 
Their  stately  forms  in  many  a  row  ; 


. 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  47 

Their  riders,  glossing  o'er  with  pride, 

The  lofty  crest  and  shining  hide, 

Or  petting  them  in  wanton  play, 

As  wears  their  leisure  hours  away. 

These,  these  are  troops,  a  noble  band, 

Of  lofty  mien,  and  ready  hand  ; 

And  well  their  General,  on  parade, 

May  gaze  in  pride  o'er  his  brigade ; 

And  oh  !  I  love  to  see  him  pace 

Along  the  lines,  with  martial  grace  ; 

His  eye  of  fire,  and  cheek  of  glo\v, 

And  forehead  broad,  and  locks  of  snow ; 

Of  noble,  frank,  and  generous  heart, 

That  bears  in  every  breast  a  part ; 

And  ne'er  may  troops  for  leader  fear, 

Against  a  foe,  when  Twiggs  is  near. 

Close  in  one  corner  of  this  camping-ground, 

Where  just  a  few  clipt  bushes  grow  around, 

I  often  pause — and  mark  with  more  than  pride, 

The  neatest  tent  of  all  I  see  beside ; 

And  well  it  may  be,  for  a  woman's  care, 

With  nicest  tact  has  waken'd  order  there  ; 

I  love  to  see  the  little  busy  thing,     • 

With  pail  or  pitcher,  tripping  to  the  spring, 


48  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

And  often  wonder  that  so  slight  a  form, 
Should  sheathe  a  soul  could  face  the  battle-storm  ; 
Or  how  she  bears  the  task,  day  after  day, 
From  well-worn  shirts  to  wash  the  soil  away. 
Her  little  daughter,  too,  of  fairy  mould, 
With  golden  locks,  and  scarcely  ten  years  old, 
Sits  sewing  by  the  tent's  half  open'd  wing, 
While  passers  ling'ring  pause  to  hear  her  sing. 
See,  with  what  love  she  clasps  her  father's  hand — 
A  bugler  he,  in  General  Twiggs's  band. 

Now  the  Great  Western53  stalks  with  stately  stride 
From  tent  to  tent,  in  merry  laughing  pride  ; 

"  »V*  -  •   *•  t    x. 

'Tis  said,  a  kinder  or  a  braver  heart 

Than  hers,  in  woman's  bosom  ne'er  held  part ; 

Unawed  in  battle,  on  amid  the  slain, 

She  sought  the  wounded,  to  assuage  their  pain  ; 

And  if  one,  folly  clings  around  her  name, 

May  not  her  virtues  cancel  all  the  shame  ? 

Hark !  'tis  the  band,  in  cadent  varying  note, 
From  vale  to  mountain  winds  its  brazen  throat ; 
Now  gushing  in  full  tones  on  airy  wing, 
^Now  softly  sighing,  and  now  echoing, 
While  "Hail,  Columbia,"  warbles  on  the  gale, 
Or  "  Yankee  Doodle"  tells  its  home-breathed  tale  ; 


1  -'**.'  *  ••'<  •     •  *       >• 

•    f      '  »..•».-." 

BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  49 


Such  music  lingers  long  o'er  feeling's  ear, 
And  whispers  pleasures  memory  holds  dear. 
.,  .     vl'is  beautiful,  at  eventide, 

To  see  the  moon  in  silver  glide 

Above  the  mountain's  purple  brow, 
,'yAnd  catch  her  soft-wing'd  beams,  as  now ; 

How  sweetly  tremulous  they  lay, 

Upon  the  streamlet's  rippling  play, 

Or  nestle  down,  and,  sleeping,  rest 

Upon  the  glad  tent's  snowy  breast. 

On  such  sweet  eves,  so  pure  and  bland, 

With  violin  and  tabor — band — 

And  castinets,  the  guards54  are  seen 

Dancing  cotillions  on  the  green ; 

The  sets  are  form'd,  the  ladies  placed, 
.     '  And  each  observance  duly  graced; 

While  polish'd  ball-room  ne'er  has  known, 

More  courtesy  than  here  is  shown ; 

And  if  imagined  ladies  can 

So  change  the  sterner  mood  of  man,       •   • 

How  much  may  real  ones  aspire, 

To  mould  him  as  they  may  desire. 

Down  where  yon  ranch,  seen  through  the  tall  wild  weeds, 
Shows  its  rude  front  and  moss-grown  roof  of  reeds ; 

5 


,  .. 

50  ^  BATTLE    OF    MOXTERE&   . 

••'.  f^  V  -      •'.  \  ,> 

A  rural  cot,  with  wattled  fence  around, 
Enclosing  yard,  and  wide  spread  garden  ground  ; 
i    .   A  wicker  gate,  with  leathern  hinges  hung, 

Half  hides  itself  the  shrubs  and  flowers  among  : 

The  path  o'ergrown  with  herbs  of  dainty  treat, 

Breathes  a  warm  fragrant  welcome  'neath  th^feet. 

Here  the  rich  fig-tree  and  the  golden  lime 

,In  tempting  beauty  kiss  the  sunny  clime. 

The  citron  blossoms,  and  the  orange  throws 

Its  mingling  perfume  o'er  the  sweet  musk-roSe. 

Before  the  cot  a  low,  rude  porch  is  seen, 

By  cypress  shaded  and  the  wild  glicine, 

With  entrance  open,  for  no  envious  door-'1 

Hides  the  rude  skins  that  mat  the  grounded  floor  :    . 

Where  groups  of  children,  tawny-skinn'd,  and  nude, 

Are  wildly  wallowing  in  their  gamesome  mood. 

Around  the  wall,  in  gaudy  coarse  display, 

Hang  pictured  saints  that  calendar  each  day; 

With  figures  of  the  Saviour,  cased  in  glass, 

The  Virgin  Mary,  and  the  priests  at  mass. 

No  window  throws  a  grateful  light  within,       '*y 

But  through  the  chinks  stray  sunbeams  struggle  in, 

Disclosing  in  one  corner  —  fain  to  hide, 

Ten  naked  puppies  by  their  mother's  side. 


•*  v 


:.*' 


r>;;;v*  -.'-i;..;  •     ' 

BATTLE     OF     MONTEREY.  51 

A  few  red  embers  cast  a  glow  around, 

From  out  a  small  scoop'd  hollow  in  the  ground, 

On  which  a  bowl  with  minced  meat  simmering"o'er, 

Exhales  strange  odor  from  its  spicy  store, 

Stirr'd  by  a  crone,55  whose  wither' d  form  appears 

Bent  down  by  weight  of  care,  and  countless  years.;. 

Deep  furrow'd  lines  of  intersected  trace, 

Meet  in  a  thousand  wrinkles  on  her  face  : 

A  face  inhuman,  from  its  monstrous  size, 

Its  low,  dark,  hairy  forehead,  and  dull  eyes; 

Her  bony,  skinny  hands  of  giant  mould, 

Match  well  her  feet,  whose  breadth  can  scarce  be  told. 

Her  jaws  protruding,  and  receding  chin, 

A  baboon's  features,  with  a  corpse-like  skin ; 

Her  head  uncover'd,  with  short  bristling  hair, 

,    ^    .V  f  -  •  /        '    >• 

And  shoulders  broad,  with  neck  and  bosom  bare ; 

And  there  she  squats;  the  feeble,  glimmering  flame 

Reflecting  ghastly  horror  o'er  her  frame. 

Idly  reclined,  upon  a  broad,  rough  hide, 

A  gay  gallant  looks  on  in  restless  pride  ; 

His  dark  eye  flashing  on  a  form  of  grace, 

That  sylph-like,  glides  in  beauty  round  the  place  ; 

His  coal  black  barb  neighs  proudly  at  the  door, 

And  shaggy  mastiff  stretches  on  the  floor  ; 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

A  small  cigar  lays  on  his  pale  thin  lip, 
Unsmoked,  and  cased  within  a  golden  tip  ; 
His  well  glazed  hat  with  band  of  leopard 
And  shadowing  rim  clasp'd  close  beneath  his  chin  ; 
.    His  braided  jacket  loosely  falls  away 
From  snowy  plaits,  that  on  his  bosom  lay  : 
His  well  wrought  trowsers — open  from  the  knee, 
Disclose  his  drawers,  white,  and  loosely  free  ; 
His  richly  hilted  dirk,  with  silver  case 
Invested,  in  his  bosom  finds  a  place, 
And  pond'rous  spurs  with  rowel  points  of  steel,  • .? 
Are  strapp'd  uniquely  on  his  booted  heel  ; 
While  all  about  him  shows  a  polish'd  grace, 
And  seals  its  truth  upon  his  meaning  face. 
Heard  you  that  sigh  from  out  his  heaving  breast  ? 
Saw  you  those  dark  eyes  on  that  maiden  rest  ? 
Oh  how  he  loves  her !   deep  affections  cling 
Round  foster'd  hopes,  that  crowd  on  memory's  wing  ; 
How  oft  with  her  in  childhood's  blissful  hours, 
He  sought  the  wildest  glens,  for  sweetest  flowers ; 
Twined  them  in  wreaths  amid  the  jetty  flow 
Of  ringlets,  waving  o'er  that  neck  of  snow. 
Bore  her  light  form  o'er  brook,  or  forest  stiles, 
And  kiss'd  her  lips,  like  rubies  set  in  smiles; 


..V 


BATTLE    OF    M 0  X  T E  It  E  Y.   ' 


_* '         "* 

Watch'd  her  dark  eyes  when  evening's  slanting  beams, 
Threw  their  rich  light  across  the  rippling  streams ; 
Waking  the  vision  of  long  future  days, 
In  one  warm,  pleading,  ardent,  heartfelt  gaze. 
Her  graceful  form  bends  o'er  her  lover  now, 
One  bright  tress  shading  her  pale  polish'd  brow ; 
Her  liquid  eyes,  dark  in  their  gem-like  light, 
Shine  from  his  soul  dim  sorrow's  chilling  night ; 
Her  dewy  lips  and  cheek  of  changing  hue, 
Where  rose-buds  thrust  their  crimson  beauties  through, 
And  bloom  in  smiles ;  her  words  o'er  her  lips  play, 
As  they  had  kiss'd  sweet  music  on  their  way ; 
While  angel  loveliness  and  fairy  grace, 
Blend  every  beauty  o'er  her  form  and  face ; 
Weaving  a  mesh  so  subtle  round  the  heart, 
'Tis  more  than  agony,  'tis  death  to  part. 
i.  ;Land  of  the  beautiful,  shaded  by  gloom, 
Where  slaves  hug  their  chains,  and  the  brave  firid  a  tomb  ; 
Where  despots  unsheathe  the  red  blade  of  their  power, 
And  faction  and  blood  guide  the  wheels  of  each  hour; 
Where  the  stripling  of  Freedom  a  nursery  built, 
To  cradle  Hope's  earliest  childhood  in  guilt, 
Wrench'd  off  in  its  frenzy  the  shackles  of  Spain, 
To  forge  them  at  home,  and  to  rivet  the  chain. 
5* 


*  •      .  •  %*•,-• 

54  BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 

•  •',**  t  -    -V  • .»"  '.     V        <. 

Too  feeble  to  hold,  and  too  frail  to  enjoy 
*     'The  blessings  that  dawn'd  o'er  a  long  Winter's  sky, 
Ye  hug  the  dark  mantle  that  ignorance  wove, 
And  wrap  superstition  in  folds  of  its  love, 
Throw  shadow  and  gloom  o'er  the  altars  of  light, 
And  smother  their  sparks  in  the  darkness  of  night ; 

Still  hugging  your  chains,  while  the  battle-field's  breath 
*    *  • .        *  tf »    .    '  *  •  7   •'   • 

Sweeps  over  your  limbs  the  cold  fetters  of  death. 

(i          *     *'    •  *        •   \    "      ^i  "^V-rt:  uti*'r^»liiA\i    *£i».v  i     •'     I   '  •£*••     •"•  *    *•'  ' 

Now  trace  the  wreck  extending  from  Marin,5fi 
Where  forest  shadows  cloud  the  gory  scene  ; 
Our  glad  return  for  miles  show'd  heaps  of  slain, 
All  scorch'd  and  black'ning  strew'd  along  the  plain. 
Months  have  roll'd  by  since  slaughter  came  this  way, 
And  yet  unburied,  there  our  comrades  lay. 
Here  formless  trunks,  and  there  a  sever'd  limb, 
Or  head  half  skeleton'd,  and  glaring  grim. 
Here  cinder'd  bones  lay  strew'd,  where  late  the  fire 
Of  burning  wagons  form'd  their  funeral  pyre  ; 
Such  slaughter  on  our  troops  and  teamsters  made, 
Woke  a  deep  vengeance,  dearly,  promptly  paid. 
.'.  '*.; 

1   •          *•  ••"  •  •  ^L'iA3t''''    *'-•  Jt    '     .    '» 

Now  village  after  village  on  our  way, 
Shows  roofless  houses  and  black  walls  of  clay  ; 

:  •%£  o.  ,    ^*  ,-    .  ":« 


BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY.  55 

The  sword  and  faggot  spared  nor  youth  nor  age, 
Nor  sex,  nor  ought  could  glut  unbridled  rage. 
The  widow'd  mother  weeping,  trembling  hies,  " ,". 

To  where  her  husband's  mangled  body  lies, 
Wipes  from  his  matted  locks  the  crimson  gore, 
> ,.    And  glues  her  lips  to  those  that  breathe  no  more  ;  ',  -    . 
Hears  from  afar  the  foe's  relentless  cry, 
And  turns  her  to  the  forest  glade  to  die  ; 
"V,  .Where  howling  wolves  may  more  of  pity  show 

Than  man,  whose  hands  imbrued  in  blood,  can  know. 
'  *** 

0  when  will  mercy  spread  her  wings  of  love, 

And  the  wide  world  her  mild  dominion  prove, 
And  every  man  from  nature's  circling  chain, 
Break  the  last  link  that  gives  a  brother  pain  ? 

-' 

".',< 

".V  \"-  '  .      % 

.-  ?v 

'.-•'• 


•\ 

i 

'   r 

•  .y   /  - 


.  -•;.• 

TO  .;    •<:•  •j^^-^p'# 
' 


.•     u 
,„ 


NOTES. 


- 

1.  GENERAL  TAYLOR'S  tent  was  made  of  the  same  kind  of  materials. 
and  fashioned  like  those  of  the  privates,  without  even  a  fly  or  outer 
spread  over  it. 

2.  Major  McCollough  and  Captain  Gillespie  of  the  Texas  Rangers. 
Captain  Gillespie  was  killed  on  the  storming  of  the  Bishop's  Castle, 
and  was  buried  temporarily  where  he  fell  ;  and  permit  ,me  here  a 
few  lines  from  my  notes  relative  to  his  grave. 

"  While  lingering  around  the  ramparts  of  the  Castle,  I  observed  a 
tile  of  regulars,  bearing  spades  and  pick-axes  towards  the  extreme 
western  part  of  the  mount  ;  and  having  before  learned  that*  the 
brave  and  intrepid  Captain  Gillespie  had  fallen  and  was  buried  in 
that  direction,  I  joined  them,  and  found  their  object  to  be  so  far  to 
remove  the  earth  from  his  grave,  as  to  ascertain  whether  the  sacred 
deposit  had  been  intruded  upon. 

"  After  throwing  up  some  two  feet  of  soil  and  mouldered  rock,  we 
came  to  a  -blanket,  which  with  feelings  of  awe  and  even  veneration, 
we  carefully  unwrapped,  finding  only  a  pile  of  bones  and  bandages 
huddled  together  and  enveloped  within  its  folds. 

"Without  disturbing  their  position,  they  were  again  shrouded  within 
their  frail  covering,  and  a  mound  raised  over  them,  with  heavy  rocks 
piled  upon  it,  sufficient  to  secure  it  from  further  molestation. 

"  My  feelings  were  much  wrought  upon,  and  finding  a  smooth 
board,  I  wrote,  though  in  hasty  and  unenduring  characters,  the  fol 
lowing  inscription,  which  I  placed  at  the  head  of  the  grave  : 

"  '  Here  rest  the  remains  of  the  gallant  Captain  Gillespie,  of  Texas 


.  ,. 


••'»•.  '•••v;S  ••/ 

NOTES.  '     -.  -  i       57 

V    ;;.;,;V.  '  .  .' 

Rangers,  who  died,  fighting  bravely  at  the  head  of  his  company,  on 
September  22d,  1846. 

Here  a  soldier  reclines,  from  his  duties  relieved, 

Who  fought  'till  life's  current  was  spent, 
Death  envied  the  laurels  the  Hero  received, 

And  bade  him  retire  to  his  tent. 

"  The  depredators  in  this  sacrilege  had  no  doubt  been  wolves  ;  and 
I  learned  afterwards,  that  a  party  of  his  own  company,  finding  his 
remains  exhumed,  had  gathered  them  together  and  reinterred  them 
as  we  found  them." 

3.  Captains   Smith  and  Scott  of  Artillery,  acting   as  Infantry. 
Lieutenant  Longstreet,  8th  Infantry. 

4.  Colonel  Duncan,  Light  Artillery. 

5.  Colonel  Childs  of  the  Artillery  Battalion. 

6.  Colonel  Staniford. 

7.  Lieutenant  Ayers,  of  Colonel  Child's  Regiment.     Lieutenant 
Ayers  was  said  to  have  been  the  first  man  to  lower  the  enemy's 
flag  on  the  Castle  walls. 

8.  Captain  Vinton,  and  Lieutenant  Halloway. 

9.  Captain  Shrivner,  and  Lieutenants  Merchant  and  Wainwright. 

10.  Captain  Montgomery. 

11.  Lieutenant  Rowland,  who   had  one  of  Duncan's  Howitzers 
dragged  up  the  steep  side  of  the  hill  or   mountain,  and  with   it 
opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  the  Palace  Fort. 

12.  Lieutenants  Nichols,  sons  of  Judge  Nichols,  of  Louisiana. 

13.  Major  General  Bliss,  Assistant  Adjutant  General,  and  aid  to 
the  Commander-in-Chief.     \ 

14.  Brigadier  General  Quitman. 

15.  The  River  San  Juan,  flowing  near  the  Forts  where  the  greatest 
struggles  were  made. 

16.  Lieutenant-Colonel  McClung,  of  Mississippi  Regiment. 

17.  Colonel  Watson,  of  the  Baltimoreans,  who,  on  his  own  regi 
ment's  retrogression,  joined  the  Ohians,  and  died  cheering  them  on 
to  victory. 

'       »" 


* 


•.  •••         •  .i-»  •-.        .••     • 

58     '»-'.-''     BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


,    ''18.  Major  P.  N.  Barbour,  3d  Infantry. 

19.  Captain   Williams,    Topographical   Engineers.      Lieutenants 
Terret,  Wood  and  Irwin  ;  and  Captains  Morriss  and  Field. 

20.  Captain  Allen,  Lieutenants  Putnam,  Ilett,  Hoskins,  Bilworth 
and  Hazlet. 

21.  \Captain  Bainbridge,  Lieutenant  Bowen,  Major  G.  A.  Calchvcll, 
Quartermaster  of  the  first  Kentucky  Volunteer  Infantry.     I  cannot 
here  withhold  my  warmest  thanks,  nor  enough  express  the  grati- 

.  tude  I  feel  for  the  many  kindnesses  received  at  this  gentleman's 
hands,  whose  countenance,  tent,  table,  and  purse,  were  ever  at  my 
service  ;  and  death  alone  can  wipe  the  deep  obligations  from  my 
remembrance. 

22.  .Major  Mansfield,  ',  Colonel   Mitchell,   Captain  Smith,    Major 
Price.  '  . 

23.  Adjutant'  Herman,  Sergeant  Major  Harlan,  Captain  Dowing 
and  Aid-de-camp  Lay. 

24.  Captain  Cooper  and  ..Lieutenant  RusSel.         \ 

25.  Lieutenant-Colonel  AVeller  and  General  Lamar. 

26.  Tiree,  a  private  in  Company  K,  of  Mississippi,  Captain  Henry, 
3d  Infantry,  Major  L.  Thomas,  Assistant  Adjutant  General;  Captain 
Johnson,  Ohiaus.  , 

27.  Generals  Twiggs  and  Henderson,  and  Major  Lear. 

28.  Colonels  Davies  and  Campbell,  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  McClung. 

29.  Lieutenant-Colonels  Gjirland  and  Wilson. 

30.  Major  Abercrombie,  Lieutenant  Moore,  and  Adjutant  Arm 
strong. 

31.  Lieutenants  Patterson  -and  Calhoun,  Captain  Lamotte. 

32.  Lieutenants  Scudder,  Graham  and  Howard. 
33^\Major  Alexander,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Anderson. 

34.  Lieutenant  Hooker,  Captain  Johnson. 

35.  Captain  Webster,  Major  Bliss  and  Captain  Wagaman. 

36.  Captain  Ridgely,  Lieutenant  Donaldson  and  Major  Craig. 

37.  Colonel  May,  Colonel  Whiting,  and  Colonel  Belknap. 

38.  Colonel  Croghan,  Inspector-General  of  the  U.  S.  Army.     I 


59 


must  not  omit  here,  in  justice  and  gratitude  to  this  brave  and  hu 
mane  officer,  an  incident  characteristic  of  the  noble  and  generous 
feelings  that  had  always  rendered  him  a  favorite,  both  with  the 
army  and  the  public  at  large. 

It  was  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  on  the  eve  of  the  morning  on 
which  the  Mexican  troops  were  to  leave  Monterey,  in  compliance 
with  the  armistice  entered  into  after  the  battle,  that  I  met  on  the 
Market  Plaza  with  a  Mexican  soldier,  who,  hailing  me  in 'good 
English,  began  to  give  me  his  opinions  upon  the  late  victory.  He 
said  he  was  a  native  of  Philadelphia,  but  had  been  three  years  in 
the  Mexican  service.  He  observed  we  might  have  won  the  city  much 
easier  than  we  did,  had  we  but  fought  aright ;  all  our  men,  he  con 
tended,  tired  too  high,  and  we  deserved  but  little  credit  for  the  result. 
These  and  many  other  observations  to  the  same  purpose,  gave  me 
to  know  how  little  his  sympathies  were  with  his  countrymen  and 
native  home. 

On  my  attempting  to  part  from  him,  he  entreated  me  to  bear  him 
company  among  the  ruins,  or  to  the  Mexican  Quarters,  and  finally 
to  a  house  of  entertainment  at  some  distance,  where  he  offered  to 
procure  for  me  some  fine  old  brandy.  By  this  time  a  number  of 
other  Mexican  troops  had  gathered  around,  and  seemed  inclined,  by 
laying  their  hands  on  me,  to  use  force,  should  I  refuse  compliance 
with  their  comrade's  request.  I  now  began  to  fancy  my  situation 
rather  precarious,  when  to  my  great  satisfaction,  Colonel  Groghan 
passing  near  the  spot,  and  catching  enough  of  the  conversation  to 
imagine  my  danger,  stepped  into  their  midst,  and  taking  me  by  the 
arm,  led  me  towards  the  quarters  of  our  regulars,  my  own  being 
three  miles  distant,  where  I  had  given  to  me  a  good  supper,  a  blanket, 
a  knapsack  for  pillow,  and  the  floor  of  their  temporary  barrack  for 
the  night;  and  next  morning  one  of  the  privates  observing  that  I 
was  nearly  bare-footed — for  I  had  worn  off  the  sole  from  one  of  my 
own  shoes,  and  had  picked  up  an  odd  one  in  the  street — gave  me  a 
good  pair  that  exactly  fitted,  and  I  shall  not  easily  forget  such  kind- 
lies  s,  hospitality,  and  generosity  to  an  entire  stranger. 


60  BAT.TLE    OP    MONTEREY. 

'   *   •'    »   -**'•'   •  'xjf  "*•    '«'•     •    •  ' 

On  leaving  them  next  morning  by  sunrise,  I  again  met  with 
Colonel  Croghan,  now  on  horseback,  who  hailed  me,  requesting  to 
be  shown  his  way  to  where  he  could  procure  some  wine,  and  also 
giving  me  money  to  purchase  for  him  a  gourd,  which  I  soon  ob 
tained  from  one  of  the  Mexican  soldiers.  I  then  led  him  to  the 
Spanish  Consul's,  who  keeps  the  largest  grocery  in  the  city,  from 
which  he  purchased  what  he  needed. 

A  little  incident  occurred  within  the  store-room  that  showed  the 
Colonel's  tenacity  of  memory,  and  also  the  generosity  of  his  feelings. 

In  one  corner,  sitting  upon  a  barrel,  and  looking  most  despondingly 
way-worn,  sat  an  old  weather-beaten  American  soldier.  I  noticed 
the  Colonel  eyeing  him  for  some  time  with  unusual  interest ;  at 
length  he  stepped  up  to  where  the  old  veteran  sat,  exclaiming, 
"  Why,  Joe,  is  that  yon,  pld  fellow?  can  you  be  alive  yet?  Ten  years 
must  have  passed  since  last  I  paw  you.  Come  up,  come  up,  and 
take  some  wine." 

Joe  roSe,  shook  his  old  oflicer  by  the  hand — for  they  had  fought 
side  by.  side  in  by-gone  days-swiped  a  tear  from  the  furroughs  of 
his  dark  rough  cheek  with  the  soiled  sleeve  of  his  ragged  coat,  and 
said,  "Wine,  Colonel,  may  do  very  well  for  some  stomachs:  but 
with  your  leave,  I  would. rather  take  something  a  leetle  stronger.'' 
Aquadienta  was  ordered,  and  Joe,  pouring  out  a  brimming  tumbler 
full,  tossed  it  down  his  throat  without  a  single  twist  in  his  counte 
nance,  saying,  "Well,  Colonel,  we  have  been  side  by  side  years  ago 
in  a  worse  fix  than  this ;"  and  ended  by  requesting  the  loan  of  fifty 
cents.  The  Colonel  handed  him  a  dollar,  urging  him  not  to  mention 
or  think  of  its  repayment. 

39.  Major  Van  Buren,  Captain  Smith,  Lieutenants  Scarret  and 
Pope. 

40.  Lieutenant  Garnet,  Majors  Kirby  and  Monroe. 

41.  While  the  battle  was  raging,  a  beautiful  Mexican  woman  was 
seen  carrying  water  to  the  wounded ;  and  while  on  this  errand  of 
mercy,  by  some  inadvertence  she  was  struck  by  a  musket  shot,  and 
died  clasping  the  body  of  her  supposed  husband. 


NOTES.  61 

«'»   ' 

42.  Bena  and  Freeman,  privates  in  Company  K,  of  the  1st  Ohians. 

43.  The  Cathedral  was  filled  with  ammunition  by  the  Mexicans, 
while  the  crowds  of  citizens,  both  men,  womea  and  children  having 
become  frantic  from  fear,  gathered  around  it,  and  had  the  shells  of 
General  Worth  broken  through  the  roof,  'how  awful  would  have 
been  the  slaughter  on  its  explosion. 

44.  Captain  Ramsey,  who  commanded  the    battery  against  the 
Citadel,  or  Black  Fort.     It  was  his  custom  after  each  discharge,  to 
run  up  the  slope  of  the  hill,  between  the  mortar  and  the  Fort,  and 
ascertain  from  thence  its  effects ;  he  was  enabled  to  do  this  from  the 
great  distance  the  shot  had  to  be-  fired.     On  the  occasion  spoken  of 
the  Mexican  Lancers  had,  formed  in  a  heavy  and  dense  body,  for  the 
purpose  of  attacking  our  position,  when,  the  shell  falling  in  their 
midst,  so  slaughtered  and  disconcerted  them,  that  they  fled  in  confu 
sion  witJnn  the  walls  of  the  Fort,  and  from  that  moment  made  no 
further  show  of  attack. 

45.  Major  Shepherd,  of  the  1st  regiment  of  Kentucky  Infantry, 
who,  on  the  death  of  General  Hamar,  the  absence  of  Colonel  Ormsby, 
and  the  governorship  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Rogers,  fyeld  the  com 
mand  ef  the  brigade,  and  a  braver  soldier,  with  a  kinder  heart,  or  a 
more  generous  and  gentlemanly  man,  was  not  known  in  the  whole 
army.    I  am  deeply  indebted  to  his  kindness.     He  was  my  friend  on 
all  occasions:  made  me  his  orderly  sergeant  and  tent  mate;  granted 
me   every  indulgence  within  his  power,  and  honored  me  with  his 
correspondence  until  his  death,  which  happened  in  Louisville  during 
the  past  summer,  1850,  to  the  deep  sorrow  of  his  former  comrades 
and  many  friends. 

46.  To  Fort  Teneria  near  the  San  Juan  River,  where  one  of  the 
fiercest  struggles  had  been  made  that  had  happened  during  the  battle. 

47.  On  General  Butler's  retiring  to  camp  after  his  being  wounded, 
he  ordered  all  the  camp  equipage  to  be  packed  within  the  baggage- 
wagons,  in  readiness  for  retreat,  in  the  event  of  the  buttle  proving 
against  us. 


62  ,  '     BATTLE    OF    MONTEREY. 


48.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Rogers  was  frequently  called  Black  Hawk, 
from  his  having  served  with  much  efficiency  and  distinction  in  the 
Black  Hawk  War. 

49.'  (From  my  Note  Book.)  About  8  o'clock,  A.  M.,  the  Mexican 
troops  began  tp  throng  the  Market  Square,  preparatory  to  their  de 
parture  ;  and  I  was  much  amused  and  astonished  at  the  number  of 
pets  they  had  in  their  possession.  There  were  dogs  of  all  breeds 
and  sizes,  monkeys,  parrots,  and  even  small  singing  birds  in  cages. 
One  fellow  had  a  young  leopard,  quite  tame,  a  beautifully  spotted 
creature,  for  which  he  asked  only  two  dollars.  Some  of  their  pointer- 
dogs  were  very  beautiful,  and  could  have  been  bought  for  a  mere 
song.  One,  especially,  I  coveted  much,  on  account  of  its  seeming 
sagacity,  and  symmetry  of  form ;  its  price  was  one  dollar ;  but,  alas, 
I  had  no  money,  and  perhaps  it  wa.s  best  I  had  not,  for  its  master 
seemed  distressed  enough,  without  parting  from  a  friend  so  beautiful 
and  playfully  affectionate. 

As  regiment  after  regiment  formed  into  line,  and  answered  the 
greetings  of  their  friends  and  wounded  comrades,  who  had  gathered 
around  to  bid  them  adieu,  and  witness  their  melancholy  departure. 
I  could  not  help  reflecting  how  much  more  distress  we  would  havt. 
known>  had  the  fortune  of  war  reversed  our  situations. 

Their  horses  are  small,  but  active  and  vigorous,  without  the 
strength,  of  ours ;  and  the  Lancers  would  certainly  have  but  little 
chance  in  a  charge  against  our  cavalry. 

These  Lancers  are  more  taudrily  than  well-dressed,  with  short- 
waisted,  narrow-tailed  jackets  of  blue  or  green,  embroidered  with 
gold  or  silver  lace-. 

Their  hats  are  mostly  of  leather,  formed  after  the  old  military 
fashion,  peaked  at  the  crown,  -with  a  small  tip  of  leather  in  front, 
and  the  whole  tasselled  off  in  fine  style.  Some,  however,  wear  caps 
of  cloth,  in  the  form  of  a  half-circle,  the  circular  part  sewed  around 
and  left  open  for  the  head  at  tnFuase,  while  the  peak  is  worn  in 
front. 

Their  lances  are  about  ten  feet  long,  with  a  steel  spear  at  the  head, 


NOTES.  63 

'      V,'V&    •      ri;,-'        £C*,V    '  :V^',V. 

and  a  leathern  thong  at -the  opposite  end,  which  is  attached  to  the 
wrist,  in  use ;  these  they  hurl  with  great  precision,  and  being  such 
expert  horsemen,  were  they  brave  as  they  are  dexterous,  they  would 
prove  themselves  more  dangerous  opponents,  • 

Many  wounded  Mexicans  are  walking  the  streets,  while  here  and 
there  a  blind  man  or  cripple  is  importuning  the  passers  by  for  alms. 

Barefooted,  dirty,  slovenly  wome.n,  old  and  young,  -with  shawls 
over  their  heads,  throng  the  squares,  or  hang  around  the  Muscale 
Dogerys,  with  a  quarto-rial  or  3  cent  piece  in  their  fingers,  chat 
tering  for  the  fire-water,  or  elbowing  each  other  from  the  counter, 
seeking  to  get  first  served. 

These  women,  I  learn,  are  the  sweethearts  and  wives  of  the  soldiers, 
and  it  made  my  heart  ache  to  see  the  poor  wretches,  as  the  troops  left 
the  city,  wringing  their  hands,  the  big  tears  coursing  each  other  down 
their  cheeks,  in  all  the  agony  of  mental  suffering :  many  hanging 
around  the  knees  of  the  distressed  soldiers,  caring  nothing  for  the 
danger  of  being  trampled  upon  by  the  horses ;  following  on  for  a 
square  or  two  as  the  regiments  filed  vff,  then  throwing  themselves 
upon  the  curbstones  of  the  pavements,  and  giving  up  to  the  full 
anguish  of  their  lacerated  affections.  »  . 

50.  Major  Duerson  of  the  Commissary  Department,  late  of  the 
Oldham  Foresters,  a  company  in  the  2d  Kentucky  Regiment.     He 
had  been  an  officer  under  General  Jackson  at  the  battle  of  New 
Orleans,  and  was  one  of  the  most  indefatigable,  gentlemanly,  and 
business-like  soldiers  I  ever  met  with.     He  had  the  management  of 
the  parade-ground. 

51.  The  flag  of  the  Louisville  Legion.     Presented  to  the  regiment 
by  Miss  Sallie  Ward. 

52.  Majors  Shepherd  and  Boyd,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Clay,  Major 
Caldwell,  Lieutenant-Colonel    Rogers ;    Rowan    Hardin,    an    inde 
pendent  volunteer,  and  afterwards  captain  of  a  company  to  the  city 
of  Mexico.     Lieutenant-Colonel  McKee,  Captain  Cutter,  Lieutenant 
Kinkead,   Captain  Dougherty,  Lieutenant  Akin,  Sergeant  Roseau, 
Private  McAbee  ;  and  Brigadier  General  Marshal,  who  had  charge 


.  /;'.  '••'•  '  ".       •*? 

64  -  BATtLB    OF    MONTEREY. 

.  •  -•  "  v»*  '•*.,'*"  .  <  '*  ''•*  ,    /  ".     • .' 

of  one  18  ponnder  gun  from  .Monterey  to  Saltillo,  but  after  using 
every  exertion,  failed  in  arriving  in  time  for  the  battle,  and  it  is  said 
wept  like  a  child  at  the  failure. 

5^.  A  gigantic,  bljave  and  kindrhfearted  female,  who  followed  tho 
fortunes  of  the  American-  army. . 

54.  The  Guards,  Company  A,  of  Louisville  Legion,  commanded 
by  the  brave  and  gentlemanly  Captain  Harper. 

55.  Stirred   by   a   crone.-  A;  well  known   character  •  often   seen 
squatting  about  the  market,  or  hobbling  along  the  streets  with  a 
stick  in  her  hand,  and  basket  upon  her  arm.     She  was  said  to'jiave 
been  140  or  150  years  of  age. 

56.  About  6  miles  on  this  side  of  Marin,  our  train  of  wagGns  was 
attacked  by  the  Mexicans,  on  February  23,  1847,  and  overwhelmed 
by  the  superiority  of  their  numbers,  more  than  a  hundred  of  o 
men  perished;        «•    4-.-"; 

The  train  was  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Barbour,  of  the  Oldham 
Foresters,  1st  Kentucky  Infantry,  who  was  taken  prisoner.  I  saw 
the  burning  of  the  wagons  on  the  night  of  the. 24th,  from  the  roof 
of  our  quarters  in  Marin,  Whither  I  had  gone  with  Major  Shepherd, 
who  had  marched  at  the  head  of  3  companies  of  the  1st  Kentuckians, 
and  2  of  Ohians,  with  2  small  field-pieces,  to  assist  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Irwin,  who  with  150  men  was  surrounded  in  Marin  by  a  body 
of  from  six  to  eight  hundred  Lancers.  Our  entrance  to  town,  about 
midnight,  was  disputed  by  the  enemy,  and  our  piquet  guards  fired 
upon.  Immediately  our  field-pieces  raked  both  flanks,  it  is  said  with 
considerable  slaughter,  and  we  entered  'town  without  loss,  muc.h  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  besieged. 


<    . 

'*• 


•JE 


VWV V      >• 


M 

TO 

A.  S.  M'GRORTY,  ESQ. 

ANl)    TO    THE    NUMEROUS    SUBSCRIBING    PATRONS    TQ    THESE    POEMS, 
THEY   ARE 

MOST  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED, 

BY   THEIR   OBLIGED    FRIEND, 

THE   AUTHOR. 


THE  ADVISING  WISH. 


TO    MISS    M.    S.    C.    L 


I  COME  like  the  breath  of  the  lilies  and  roses, 

From  the  beautiful  groves  where  the  bulbul  reposes ; 

O'er  the  bosom  of  nature,  gold-woven  in  green, 

With  a  fairy  fraught  wish  to  the  bower  of  my  queen ; 

And  I  urge  by  the  fervor  and  brightness  of  youth, 

By  the  pureness  of  virtue,  and  beauty  of  truth  ; 

By  childhood's  young  love,  and  the  tenderness  taught, 

As  a  mother  smiled  over  our  earliest  thought ; 

By  the  fairy-like  visions  that  float  on  our  sky, 

When  the  future  has  hung  out  her  banner  of  joy  ; 

By  the  first  little  flowret  we  meet  in  the  spring, 

By  its  beauties,  and  by  the  sweet  thoughts  it  will  bring ; 

•  '       *  »  ^*~S. 

By  the  dawn  of  affection — so  thrilling  to  me, 

That  taught  my  young  heart  its  devotion  to  thee ; 

By  sympathy's  tears,  as  they  tremblingly  flow 

O'er  the  rose  cheek  of  youth  at  the  heavings  of  woe  ; 

By  the  lute-breathing  softness  of  earliest  love, 

As  it  tunes  like  the  wind-harp  its  passion  to  prove  ; 


:  .      *  '  •    . 

68  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


By  the  depths  of  the  ocean,  the  breadth  of  the  sky, 
By  the  wild  thrill  that  bursts  from  the  bosom  of  joy  ; 
By  the  glances  that  softly,  impulsively  steal 
'From  the  fountains  of  light  —  as  they  pleasure  reveal  ; 
By  the  lone  stars  that  break  through  the  azure  above, 
Like.  diamonds  besprent  o'er  the  vesture  of  love  ; 
By  the  glances  of  faith  that  in  sympathy  fly,       '•'.  .  „ 
And  reflect  like  a  mirror  each  impulse  of  jqy  ;- 
By  the  sun  when  he  smiles  from  a  cloud  amid  showers, 
By  the  tints  of  the  rainbow  and  breathings  of  flowers  ; 
By  the  moonbeams  we  loved  in  our  earliest  youth,' 
As  they  chequer'd  the  hawthorn  that  trysted  our  truth  ; 
By  the  pearls  of  the  ocean,  and  gems  of  the  earth, 
By  the  yearnings  maternal  that  woke  at  our  birth  ;  •  /»  . 
By  all  that  is  beautiful  —  all  that  is  bright, 
By  the  glory  of  day,  and  the  grandeur  of  night  ; 
By  the  whisp'rings  of  awe  that  the  spirit  enshrouds, 
As  eternity,  folding,  rolls  onwards  her  clouds  ; 
By  the  discord  that  jars  o'er  the  lute  of  despair, 
When  adversity's  hand  is  too  rudely  laid  there  ;     1^  •• 
By  the  smile  and  the  tear,  that  comes  tremblingly  by, 
Companionship  strange,  from  the  fountain  of  joy  ;  - 
By  the  hope,  the  great  hope,  the  last  hope  that  we  feel, 
•Ere  the  angel  of  fate  breaks  eternity's  seal  ; 


<«     ";-;.;;  •%:; 

THE     ADVISING    WISH.  69 

?••'-,•    •   '  *•••*.  '   j*   *'"*'* 

And  the  breadth  of  the  future  lays  open  and  bare, 
.   A  bright  vision  of  bliss,  or  broad  gulph  of  despair  ; 
Oh,  plume  the  young  hopes  of  thy  future,  to  rise 
'Mid  bright  summer  gardens  that  bloom  in  the  skies  ; 
Where  perennial  roses  are  trellised  in  light, 
And  the  glory  of  love  spreads  her  wings  over  night ; 
Where  angels  and  cherubs  wing  through  the  bright  bowers, 
That  circlihgly  spread  in  a  rainbow  of  flowers ; 
'In  the  spring  time  of  youth,  ere  the  rose  leaves  are  shed, 
Or  the  frosts  of  the  winter  lay  hoar  on  thy  head  ; 
Ere  the  sparkles  that  dance  in  thy  beautiful  eye 
Gather  feebly  their  last  scintillations  to  die  ; 
Like  hope  in  her  bridals  of  azure  and  white, 
High,  higher,  still  soaring  embodied  in  light, 
May  thy  young  spirit  climb  by  the  cordage  of  love, 
Until  sympathy's  chain  be  establish'd  above  ; 
And  thy  prayers,  ascending  this  ladder  of  gold, 
Bring  back  the  rich  blessing  thine  age  shall  unfold  ; 
While  silver  wing'd  spirits  up-pinion  thy'  flight, 
To  the  beautiful  home  far  away  in  the  light. 


70  MISCELLANEOUS     POEMS. 


FILIAL  AFFECTION ; 

T  w»''V       • 

*W  •     '        V  ,•*      *«.'     ^ 

OR      ;   ^        ^  .^i     •.^•«?%*-'; 

THE    CAUSE    AND    CURE    OF    LOVE. 

•  ^t  J  >•'    ''    •  '  t'         ."•'  .     *  »i»  v    •*  f*    •          • 

Written  at  the  request  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Kogers,    of  the 

Louisville  Legion,  while  he  held  the  office  of 

Governor  of  Monterey. 

'.    •'  "    •      ..>(.vv  -      fui&f^'t    *''•' 

'TWAS  noon,  as  the  governor,  wending  his  way 
From  his  home,  through  the  streets  of  the  famed  Monterey. 
His  heart  warm  with  love,  for  you  well  may  divine 
That  a  soldier's  chief  thoughts  are  war,  women,  and  wine, 

It  chanced,  that  a  lovely  young  creature  reclined 
'   './  "*'?'  •   .  •  •  *  ^  ••  .v  \     .'  ' •  '  *  i 

In  a  window  enclosure,  her  tresses  to  bind  ;        • 

He  paused,  and  a  smile  on  her  lip  seem'd  to  say, 
I  should  like  to  take  part  of  your  duties  away. 
Her  eyelids  were  fringed  of  the  raven's  dark  dyes, 
And  lash'd  the  bright  sparks  from  her  beautiful  eyes; 
How  polish'd  her  brow,  where  the  veins'  purple  flow 
Ran  bounding  in  health  o'er  its  surface  of  snow : 
Her  tresses  of  jet  floated  wildly  and  wide, 
So  glossy  and  bright  in  their  ringlets  of  pride  ; 
Her  neck  was  all  bare,  and  her  bosom  heaved  wild, 
In  a  tumult  of  passion,  that  spoke  nature's  child  ; 


•  f'l^vj  •'  ..    ••'     •'    • 

f-'f-     FILIAL    AFFECTIONS.          i-'-y  /         71 

•  '  u,  *    *^  » -      *       *  •  Jt  •  / 

And  she  seem'd  scarce  of  earth,  for  the  fervor  of  love 

Gives  a  spirit  to  thoughts  that  in  purity  move. 

Her  fairy  form,  moulded  in  beauty  and  grace, 

Seem'd  to  float  like  a  sylph  on  the  light  wings  of  space  ; 

Her  trim  little  foot,  and  her  ancle — but  oh, 

I  shall  die  of  sheer  pleasure  if  further  I  go  ; 

Then  shroud  such  rare  beauties  in  silence  and  night, 

For  the  senses  grow  sick,  in  excess  of  delight. 

The  governor  pass'd — and  his  business  o'er, 

He  return'd  the  same  route  he  had  gone  by  before, 

And  his  heart  leap'd  with  joy  as  he  reach'd  the  glad  spot, 

« 
Which,  if  mark'd  on  love's  chart,  can  be  never  forgot. 

Crack,  crack, — and  he  listen'd  ;  crack,  crack,  came  again, 
Like  musketry  firing  far  over  the  plain  ;     . 
And  oh  what  a  sight  his  affection  to  smother, — 
The  mother  and  daughter  Were  louseing  each  other. 


I   HAVE  BEEN   TRUE   TO   THEE. 

'  I  HAVE  been  true  to  thee,'  no  earthly  thought 
Ere  pass'd  the  sentinel  of  hopes  or  fears, 

But  thou  wert  still  its  password,  thou  hast  wrought 
The  hues  of  life  to  rainbows — spanning  years, 


72  MI'SGELLANEOUS    POEMS.  . 

•  '     *  .  r 

'.-  '•   v.  -"•'«  '.,         • v    > 

Arches  of  beauty — set  from  smiles  to  tears  ; 
The  young  epitome  of  tenderness  ; 

That  shines  through  sorrow,  and  the  lone  heart  cheers  ; 
»',*•.'   x  ' 

A  ray  of  sunshine,  coming  but  to  bless 

The  o'ercharged  heart,  from  pleasure's  sweet  excess. 
'  I  have  been  true  to  thee,'  when  buds  and  flowers 

In  .early  spring-time  oped  their  eyes  and  smiled  ; 
.The  rosy  richness  came  like  summer  showers,    *;4. , 

And  breathed  of  thee  ;  I  felt  their  fragrance  wild 

And  lived  on  passion  —a  mere  fairy  child  : 
And  thoughts  of  thee  like  some  sweet,  long  known  lay, 

Bound  by  the  tenderness  of  bygone  years, 
'Around  the  chords  of  memory  seem'd  to  play;  V 

Dissolving  in  the  luxury  of  tears.    , 
' I. have  been  true  to  thee,'  when  sorrow  wrought 

Her  web  of  darkness  round  my  aching  heart ; 
When  hopes  were  spectres  unto  palsied  thought, 

And  bitter  tears  had  blotted  memory's  chart ; 
When  every  feather  upon  fancy's  wing 

Was  scatter'd  like  the  snow-flakes  on  the  blast, 
Each  thought  of  thee  its  lovely  rays  would  bring1,    • 

Like  blushing  morning,  to  light  up  the  past. 
'  I  have  been  true  to  thee,'  so  true,  alas, 

My  world  of  future  lives  but  in  my  dreams  ; 


S 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MY  MOTHER.     73 

"'"  t.-       *  "*  ,, >  X,    "">£   .    •/*  '    t      +    .',       ,       1 

•    '  •»"*"*  *N  ' 

My  Eden  thou,  where  angel  shadows  pass, 
And  leave  me  floating  in  their  silvery  beams, 
With  heaven's  own  light  quench'd  in  the  meteor  gleams.- 

The  cherub-smiles  from  glories  purified, 
.  Like  the  lost  pleiad,  beam  no  more  for  me  ;  '  •'%' 

The  stars  of  memory  one  by  one  have  died, 
Arid  in  the  azure  left  but  only  thee.      .    • . 

'.>,.;/;Cv. 

•.   ~   -  r '*.•*•  '*.    *  .  •  

;'  .     'V  t- 

***"•• :  "*• 

ON   THE   DEATH   OF   MY   MOTHER. 

• '  » ..•' 

Time  trips  along,  and  day  by  day, 
Steals  all  my  cherish'd  hopes  away  ; 
Those  raiubow'd  hopes,  undimm'd  by  tears, 
That  arch'd  with  pride  my  early  years. 
No  more  the  heart-lit  smile  of  joy, 
The  warm  embrace,  the  anxious  sigh-, 
The  fawn-like  look,  the  hand  of  care 
That  led  me  to  the  house  of  prayer  : 
The  well-remember'd  song  that  stole 

'    •          .    Z- 

Like  angel-music  o'er  my  soul. 
» y  ;      No  more  the  letters  o'er  the  sea, 

Comes  gemm'd  with  love's  warm  tears  for  me, 
7 


74  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

To  tell  of  childhood's  friends,  and  tales 
Amusing,  of  my  native  vales. 

'Tis  o'er,  the  ties  that  bound  me  fast 
To  my  loved  home,  are  broke  at  last ;    ,-• 
I  care  not  for  thy  gentle  showers,   4*. .«* 
Thy  bright  green  fields  and  rosy  bowers ; 
.  '•  For  what  were  all  their  beauteous  glow, 
Bereft  of  her  who  loved  me  'so. 
I  could  have  wept  my  soul  away, 

•     .    V  .»  '   '*•  f°,    »• 

Could  tears  have  won  thy  longer  stay  ; 
Or  wring  my  heart  with  torturing  pain, 
Could  anguish  bring  thee  back  again. 
The  mournful,  smiling,  tearful  eye, 
The  half-breathed  prayer,  the  bursting  sigh, 
The  thrilling  look  when  last  we  parted, 
Too  .truly  told  thee  broken-hearted. 

Could  I  have  seen  thy  fading  form, 
While  bending  'neath  the  death-bed  storm  ; 
Watgh'd  o'er  thy  couch,  and  'tended  thee, 
Or  heard  thy  last  warm  prayer  for  me  ; 
I  would  have  kiss'd  the  heavenly  smile 
That  lighted  up  thy  face  the  while  ; 
Yes,  thy  last  dying  prayer,  they  say, 
Blest  the  lone  wand'rer  far  away  : 


, 

J  •*  '  •     •  '  •  T 

•.:.•"•      -  "•'•• 

•'  v    '•     *lH*      '       :i$  *  '  •       '    *  *** 

ON  THE  DEATH  QF  MY  MOTHER.     75 


Such  faith,  and  hope,  and  strength  were  given, 
Death's  pangs  were  lost  in  view  of  heaven  ; 
Thy  Saviour's  love  a  halo  spread 
Of  sunshine  o'er  thy  dying  bed, 
Robb'd  gloomy  death  of  all  its  woes, 
And  soothed  thee  to  thy  last  repose. 

Come,  gentle  Peace,  sweet  stranger  guest, 
Come,  make  thine  home  within  my  breast, 
And  say,  sweet  nymph,  why  I  alone  , 
Thy  fondling  smiles  have  scarcely  knowq  ?. 
The  sunshine  of  thy  soft  blue  eye, 
But  points  me  to  a  far  off  joy, 
And  ere  I  reach  the  g9ded  prize, 
The  flattering  vision  fades  and  dies  ; 
Poor  wounded  Hope  no  more  will  bring 
A  shelter,  'neath  her  wearied  wing  ; 
And  Fancy  in  her  heavenward  flight,  - 
Lags  'mid  the  dark'ning  shades  of  night, 
Or  points  me  to  my  own  loved  isle, 
And  shows  the  well-remember'd  smile. 

In  vain  I  view  the  bright  blue  sky, 
The  lowly  vale,  or  mountain  high  ; 
The  gliding  river,  wild  and  free, 
Deep,  rushing  to  the  broad-spread  sea  ; 


*''   r* 

.*...  , 

.*•'<•*"•<'      '»'•     .    •.>••"'     '".  V  ;»*|u.  •   ,-.    '  ;   . 

76  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

The  silent  glen,  the  dimpling  rill,  '-    * 
v       •">•'**  *  * ' 

The  woody  glade,  the  gentle  hill ;  *"!  .' 

The  gay,  blithe  bird,  the  bounding  fawn, 
•  The  wild-rose  peeping  'neath  the  thorn ';   • 
The  eglantine,  the  violet  blue, 
The  sparkling  gems  of  morning's  dew ; 
.  ,-  The  deep,  dark  forest  swathed  in  dun, 
The  crimson  curtain'd  evening's  sun ; 
All  nature  bloom's  for  me  in  vain, — 
I  feel  no  joy,  I  fear  no  pain. 

WThat  though  a  forced,  unmeaning  smile, 
Light  up  my  features  for  awhile, 
'Tis  but  the  flick'ring  flame  that  plays, 
To  gild  the  lamp's  last  dying  rays;' 
No  hope  for  me,  no  pitying  eye, 
No  love-warm  tear,  no  gentle  sigh  ; 
No  whisper'd  prayer,  no  kindly  hand 
To  guide  me  in  a  stranger  land. 
The  few  gay  flowers  I  chance  to  see, 

Fade,  droop,  and  die,  when  nursed  by  me  ; 
'  •  •  '  '•'.'*• 

The  chords  of  soul  untuned  remain, 

Or  only  wake  to  notes  of  pain  ; 
While  jaded  memory  turns  to  thee, 
Thou  loved  one,  o'er  the  dark,  deep  sea>  , 

-. -V  f  :,'*  .— . '"*.'         ;~> 

v  • ,  ••"„••      '  >r*. r  • . 

•    .  --.-..  -V?-.;-.  ;t  •    .  ;A'.: 
t       •»                               •    .•  .\-  • 

( -   ,  »••':.',:...'•.  ,, »»  > 

'•'•':  J>  ••  *•'     •'     >  •'•'.  ,  >  •     •-*      •** 


./;;;;.-; 

WHAT    IS     LIFE.  77 

LINES 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  LAMENTED  JOHN  M.  HARRISON,  WHO  FELL 
A  VICTIM  TO  A  FALSE  CODE  OF  HONOR. 

"  He  is  gone  to  his  home,  and  tho'  sorrow  o'ertook  hinv, 

It  came  as  the  crucible  comes  to  the  gold ; 
It  came  like  the  breeze  o'er  the  buds,  as  it  shook  him 
His  virtues  like  rose-leaves  began  to  unfold. 

»     '  '•.••*  *     •.  "•»"•'' 

He  felt  that  his  Saviour  had  smiled  o'er  his  sorrow, 
He  saw  the  white  wings  of  his  pardon  unfold  ; 

And  he  look'd  up  aloft  to  that  beautiful  morrow, 

i  y  5           .    . 

Whose  morning  is  curtain'd  with  crimson  and  gold.. 


The  an^el  of  mercy  had  breathed  o'er  his  error, 
In  eloquence  fresh  from  the  fountain  of  love  ; 
The  death  he  had  dared  was  disarmed  of  its  terror,- 
•  And  now  his  freed  spirit  sleeps  sweetly  above. 

•     '    "•"•'».•! 

...*•*....'  "";  .,'''•  .'•-«     "«'.'.*   '  *     i'*' 

'  WHAT  TS  LIFE? 

;;..  \.  v.;.r-^.-       ,  ^-^-^ 

What  is  life  ?  the  wounded  mind — 
The  spirit  broken  and  confined ; 
The  faded  form,  the  soul's  deep  strife, 
In  echoes  answer — what  is  life  ?        .  uif-'ir.; ; 
7* 


78  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

,.".    .-v^V  •  •  ,'  ' 

What  is  life  ?  a  broken  chain, 
A  weary  road,  a  couch  of  pain  ; 
A  few  faint  blessings  little  prized, 
A  thousand  hopes  unrealized. 

What  is  life  ?  a  bank  of  flowers, 
Withering  and  unnurst  by  showers  ; 
*A  winter's  sun,  whose  quivering  beam 
Shed's  but  a'momentary  gleam. 

*'..       .  '••      '-.»'    ,->  •       '.•*"•'*.''   »*'.  '  '   •'•'.'  ':  *•     •'•     v*- 

What  is  life  ?  a  shower  of  tears, 
A  shorten'd  round  of  misspent  years ;. 
A  dream  that's  broken  ere  its  close, 
A  battle  scene  'mid  hosts  of  foes. 

v-V"/  S^!^jV*rt  "''•*«.:.'• 
WTiat  is  life  ?  its  tinsell'd  toys 
•'',<     *-    •'•  ••  \:,*  -,    -.         .         W    •--=*••     : 

Are  but  the  mock  of  real  ioys ; 
«••'•••»-  »  j  j 

A  play  where  gaudy  groups  are  se^n,  , 
And  death  presides  to  drop  the  scene. 


WHY   PART   WE   IN   SORROW? 

•  ..;  -'.S'^'V*   r*'%  ':  •;-•-'- 

Why  part  we  in  sorrow  ?  thine  image  shall  be, 
'Mid  'the  din  of  the  battle,  a  beacon  to  me  ; 
Like  an.  angel,  thy  spirit  shall  shield  me  unseen, 
And  when  death  points  his  sword  throw  a  buckler  betwee 


* 


THERE'S  A  DEAR  LITTLE   THIEF.         79 

Why  part  we  in  sorrow  ?  affection  may  lay, 
These  pearls  on  our  cheek,  but  to  smile  them  away ; 
While  the  cherub  of  hope  wafts  her  wings  over  pain, 
And  whispers  in  music  we'll  soon  meet  again. 

;  '      -V  •'.        •''.'"•'  ''''•„'•'*}•'''.   •*>;"••       *•'          '      *'      -'•"•',   '• 


,  .  •    '         '  •*  •'  •  ''"  ,  .*•  ' 

•  _  ^af,   '•  i  ;•;  ;.  .  »-^  '_•;.,.  -\ 

THERE'S   A   DEAR  LITTLE   THIEF. 


A   SONG. 

There's  a  dear  little  thief  that  has  stolen  my  heart, 
And  leads  me  a  troublesome  chase  ; 

And  Cupid  refuses  the  use  of  his  dart^ 
To  gain  for  me  her's  in  its  place. 

Oh,  stop  her,  and  kindly  persuasions  impart, 

To  save  me  the  pain  I  so  dread  ; 

•<•' ' l    .  *  -  •;   .    '    .  .  jib   "     • 

And  coaxingly  win  her  to  give  me  her  heart, 

And  take  me  with  mine  in  its  stead. 

f.    .  I  have  pass'd  me  unscathed  'mid  the  battle's  wild  roar, 

Where  the  bombs  hid  the  blue  of  the  skies ; 
But  believe  me,  I  shrink  'mid  the  danger  far  more, 
From  a  battery  of  beautiful  eyes. 


80  HLS&ELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

*f>  **'.••*'  *       "    *  i  £ 

Then  stop  the  young  thief  while  I  gather  the  chaint 
/  'Wrought  out  by.  the  yulcan  of  love  ; 
And  Hymen  shall  rivet  together  the  twain, 
And  bliss  the  sweet  bond-age  approve. 


LINES  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  AN   INFANT. 

The  slumber  of  death  closed  thy  beautiful  eyes, 

And  thy  bosom  lay  pulseless  and  cold  ; 
The  bud,  of  thy  spirit  j,vas  borne  to  the  skies, 

In  the  garden  of  love  to  Unfold.    •  ^ . 
Thou  art  laid  in  the  grave,  and  the  incense  of  flowers 

Is  breathed  from  the  turf  o'er  thy  bed  ;  ' 
And  wild  birds  are  carolling  lays  in  the  bowers, 

That  weave  themselves  over  thy  head. 
The  span  of  thy  life  was  contracted  by  pain, 

Yet  now  thou  art  happy  and  free  ; 
And  eternity's  tide  will  unite  us  again, 

Then~vvhy  should  we  sorrow  for  thee  ? 


;.  .*.         '     *  --. 

.:."•    •:•  v-."   •  ;'V  : 


•  -  .  ... 

•  •  .  rf  '.  N 

THE     BOWL.  81 

.-  „>'•  .  -r^^Sl  ,  •'  .'••:;>".' 

"••.:•  „..••:'        .  -;v  >  ^v" 

>'  \\ 

-,v\  .  -V       •  j-/cr\KjT 

•  THE   BOWL. 

-;•••-. :'^'V'  '  ;^/' 

^,    .  Away,  away,  with  the  sparkling  bowl, 
,      Its  blushes  no  longer  shall  me  control ; 
Its  syren  smiles  would  enchain  my  soul ; 

Away,  away. 


I  have  hung  on  its  rosy  lip  for  years, 

Till  its  poisonous  breath  my  memory  sears ; 

It  embitter'd  a  dying  mother's  tears  ; 

Away,  away. 

\  :  •.  •: ;  ( •_  •  ^  _  *"  •/•,•  ,?  ;  .•;  -"J.  «r 

^"*  -*  i    •      »  '  .-",.'*  *  -  '•*»** 

It  branded  my  brow  with  the  mask  of  care, 
I  hid  in  its  folds,  but  the  demon  was  there  ; 
I  shrank  from  its  grasp,  but  it  whisper'd  despair, 

How  dark,  how  dark. 

' *~ ''.'*.  >'*• ;  '  +'*'"'  .-•   r ••! :!••* v.">':' 

>  •  •  •  ."*  *• 

But  the  eagle  of  hope  in  its  glory7  once  more, 

With  its  broad  spreading  wings  o'er  my  pathway  shall  soar, 

And  all  nature  open  her  beautiful  store, 

To  cheer  my  way. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  FLAG  OF  THE  LOUISVILLE  LEGION; 

"  .> v         I' •  '    ".  '••  "'•'•'  •  *"  .    '2'\.'-t     «*J^  ™'..- 

RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED   TO        <t 

MISS  SALLIE  WAftD,  OF  LOUISVILLE,  KY. 

'-.  After  the  battle  of  Monterey,  the  first  volunteer  flag  that  waved 
from  the  battlements  of  the  citadel,  was  the.  one  presented  to 
the  Louisville  Legion/ by  Miss  S.  Ward. 

Float  wide  on  the  breeze  where  the  battlements  rise, 
Between  the  proud  mountains  whose  tops  kiss  the  skies  ; 
Reflecting  the  hues  of  the  rainbow,  that  glows 
O'er  the  dark  crimson  current  that  gush'd  from  our  foes. 

PT'"-V  .     •"          V'/-1*"'  V       V:  *.'•"":.    '•'.-, 

Float  on  in  thy  beauty,  unsullied  by  shame, 
We  received  thee  with  pride, and  return  thee  the  same  ; 
E'en  the  fire-breathing  bomb  bow'd  its  head  when  it  came, 
-And  the  foe  paid  respect  to  trie  brave  Legion's  name. 

•'  »vi:   i'|wf|'\ft:^  '**:•'.••';.•'•'••.'••    ..".       •  '•&      ;*'  '•'•', 
Thou  wert  given  in" trust,  and  we  guarded  thee  well, 
Not  a  rent  or  a  soil  on  thy  folds  can  e'er  dwell ; 

..  -'Twas  an  angel  that  gave  thee,  and  God  will  prevent 

A  dishonor,  or  shame,  on  the  blessing  He  sent. 

••.-.,,-„•,'      '/'.'» •'•£<''+•''•'    '   .'*••'"•'•  ••»•*' 

V  ,•*••'•*.;•••'  V*   'V- Vv-  .'-»  -.•/•'• 


DESPONDENCY.       '.  83 

ACROSTIC   TO  A   MOTHER. 

*  •  •  ',  *  •   f 

•  * . '  '.  -  •>  '  •        '      •• 

Ere  time  had  taught  my  wandering  feet  to  stray,    '   * 

Like  a  lost  bird,  far  from  my  home  away, 
In  fond  affection  thou  hast,  o'er  me  smiled, 
Zeal  warm'd  thy  heart,  and  blest  thy  wayward  child. 
And  shall  those  moments  ever  be  forgot, 
When  m.y  loved  home  was  deem'cr  a  sacred. spot? 
My  crowding  mem'ry  now  brings  back  to  view, 
In  rosy  smiles,  the  playmates  once  I  knew, 
.Like  fairy  dreams,  in  golden  links  they  bind 
Sweet  thoughts,  to  mix  with  cares  that  crowd  behind. 
. ,    Tell  me,  my  mother,  dost  thou  think  on  me' 
Each  day,  as  when  I  sat  upon  thy  knee, 
And  thou  wouldst  part  the  curls  upon  my  brow  ? 
Dear  mother,  tell  me,  dost  thou  love  roe  now£    -t   . 

*    '-.  '     t    ',  ''•'£  •*  N"  "•-.«•«    *.'>   "i   •  ' 

•'•_.•  •**'"....  I-   .,  '•    '  ' 

DESPONDENCY. 

Written  on  having  broken  the  Temperance  Pledge  after  four  years' 
.  Abstinence. 

I'm  caring  novmore  for  my  birds  or  my  flowers, 
Their  music  or  breathings  are  painful  to  me  ; 

For  a  dark  cloud  is  cast  o'er  my  wearisome  hours, 
And  the  wings  of  my  spirit  but  sigh  to  be  free. 


84  MISCELLANEOUS    PO.EMS.    .: 

»'•"•*  .  ..     V  •        ''      •      .  *  • 

Though  error  has  cross'd  like  a  blight  o'er  my  heart, 
And  left  me  a  wreck  to  remorse  and  to  shame, 

Are  there  ~no  drops  of  pity  the  kind  can  impart, 
To  wash  out  the  spot  that  has  sullied  my  name  ? 

Ohy.yes,  there  are  those  of  the  kindest  and  best, 

Whose  smiles,  like  the  sunshine,  will'  'lighten  my  soiil, 

On  whose  counsels  my  weak,  wounded  spirit  may  rest, 
While  -they  bear  with  my  failings  and  pardon  the  whole. 

Yet  should  the  wide  world  'cast  its  victirh  aside, 

And  after  contrition  no  favor  be  shown  ; 
.   .The  wing  of  my  spirit  shall  cower  in  its  pride, 

And  nest  in  a  limited  world  of  'its  own.   .  . 

*''  *  " 


;.  .,,       .-      .,:          ...••• 

Take  back  the  rosy  smile, 

That  sweetest  smile  of  thine  ;    • 

»  *''.*'     /?*•.:.  •-•  £  •  ,>• 

Oh  take  it,  arid  make  other  hearts 

•>;»  .  .  .-.'x    C-   •.' 

As  desolate  as  mine. 
'••'•'.      -.'  ~-*$  ,  .  >\   ' 

Take  back  the  dewy  tear, 
-  ,..And  weep  for  others'  woes, 
Go,  bid  the  bright  gem  linger  where 
The  dew  drops  kiss  the  rose. 


. 


.     .     '  >.;.'-•    '.it 

•  \  .  •  »••  ,  •     '•'•  »; . 
.";''"'•  •  *  f*$M 

SONG.  85 


,-k       ....         . 

Take  back  those  blissful  hours,  • 

:  Ye,t  oh,  'tis  death  to  part, 
When  memory  wreathes  her  faded  flowers 
Around  the  breaking  heart. 


'-  '   v    ... 


•v'.YV    SONG.  ;        g£ 

AIR— i-"  Oh  noj  I'll  never  mention  him." 

Ceme,  listen  to  thy  Mary's  strain,  . 

It  breathes  of  love  and  joy, 
To  .chase  away  the  clouds  of  pfcin, 

That  flit  o'er  sorrow's  sky. 

-vTo  take  thee  back  to  happier  hours,  / 

When  sunshine  beam'd  around, 

•••''.  «  •"'         ••/. 

'   And  hope  was  twining  buds  and  floweis, 

•'In  fancy's  fairy  ground: 

Oh,  does  thy  Mary- love  thee  Jess   .    . 

.   i  •'.."•  •  ' 'A'*''- 

Since  fortune  fled  thy  bower  ? 

And  has  thy  babe  no  charm  to  bless 
•  (    »st  •          Life's  dullest,  darkest  hour  • 


'86  '  -MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

*  t  * 

Co  me,  cheer  away  the  misty  gloom,  •  ' .-' 

.That  clouds  thy  brow  with  pain,    .- 
'.«t#7    And  summer  skies,  and  summer's  bloom, 
"  Will  make  life  bright  again. 


TO   MAY. 

\.  '  Cornex  ever  gentle  May, 

Thqu  flowery  nymph  of  spring.; 
Whose  smiles  can  make  the  valleys  gay,- 
The  merry  woodlands  ring.;. 

Thy  golden  bosom  bare  display; 
+ '•       •  (         .__  % 

Thy  softest,  sweetest  music  bring. 

Thy  'bro'w  with  blossoms  cro^n'd,  "• 

Thy  robes  of  green  and  blue;  . 
The  primrose  ling'ring  where  thou'rt  found,  •„ 

W7ith  flowers  of  .every  hue, 
To  spread  a  couch  foY  thee — sweet  maid,' 
By  some  lone  grot  or  rural  shade. 

Thine  eye,  the  morning's  ray, 
Thy  frown,  the  gentle  breeze  ; 


•     V  t     .     ,    \    :  ,  -.  ,.;  ' 

ACROSTIC.  87 

Thy  smile,  the  sunny  beams  that  play 

Among  the  spicy  trees  : 
Thine  hopes,  a  show  of  fairy  flowers, 
Of  glowing  fruit,  and  gilded  hours. 


•ACROSTIC^;. 

f     .    -.- .  ^  "•$    , 

•  \i ;  '  "  .••  -.'  .\f 
« "•>>?*. :  «-^"^is 


TO    M.-   T. 


May  rosy  pleasures  cluster 'round  thee, 
In  tlieir  earliest,  freshest  bloom  ; 
'  Sorrow's  shadows  never  bound  ,thee, 
Spreading  darkness,  care  and  gloom,; 
'May  thy  curtairi'd  eyelids  close 
Their  jewels  up.  in  sweet  repose  ;   *  .  , 
Nursing  fairy  dreams,  that  rise 
Ethereal,  'mid  brightest  skies  ; 
Virtue,  like  an  angel  fair, 
In  beauty  cradle  thee  with  care'; 
While  from  each  bough  of  life  is  springing 
Sweet  blossoms,  in  wild  fragrance  clinging.  • 


88.  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


TO   MY   MOTHER. 


The  lingering  buds  of  my  youth, 
V  , ,     Have  blopm'd  into  flowers,  &nd  shed 

The  mayfhorn  Of  beauty,  that  smiled  over  truth  ; 

.,    My  young  dawn  of  pleasure  is  fled  -f    ,   " 
..     Hope's,  smiles  are  betraying,  and  njothji'ig  beguiles^  , 

Save  a  father's  affeetion,  a  mothers  fond  smiles, 

•  '•'•'  ^:;'^A^;;-.:\^.':-^';/^V" 

.;      There's  a  poison  beneath  the  world's  smile, 

Like  thorns  on  the  sweet  summer  rose ; 
I  gaze  on  its  blushes  with  pleasure  awhile, 

And  still  it  more  beautiful  grows ; 
I  snatch  to  rjiy  bosoni  the  coveted  prize, 
Where,  withering,,  drooping,  if  wounds  as  it  dies, 

v|     ."  .     .:'      •:»'.'»        -i>C,  -V4C  .  K-  ••     .    '  '.->"•'•'    ;    .          1 

*S*?."'  -A '•*•-:  /,*•'-• 

'Say,  mother — though  distant  from  thee, 

Say  dost  thou  not  think  on  thy  child, 
With  a  smile,  when  his  wish  and  his  prospects  agree, 

With  a  tear,  when  all's  gloomy  and  wild  ?• 
I  fancy;!  feel  thy  affection  still  speak, 
In  the  warm,  glowing  kiss  fancy  placed  on  my  cheek. 


•„ 

\.' 

*  •:• 


LINES.  89 

••*  f  ,.';•/  -•".>*•«  .>•;**    •      ,    ••    •      ,  „  ;"  :  ov 

.    Farewell,  thou  hast  loved  me  so  true,1 

The  world  is  forgiven  in  thee  ;     • 
I'll  smile  on  the  envy  that  wounds  me  anew,  ,  . 

Whe»  I  'fancy  thou  smilest  upon  me  ;  * 
For  oh,  thou  hast  loved  me  when  friendship  has  flown, 
With  the  world's  share  of  love,  and  two  shares  of  thine  own. 


EPIGRAM^ 

'",*•*".»  ''*•'  •    •     •  i   •• 

A  bee,  while  hovering  round  a  lip, 
Where  wit  and  beauty  hung, 

Mistook  its  bloom,  and  flew  to  sip, 
•'  \  '    '     '«   •'       ' 

But  ah,  the  bee  got  stung. 


LINES/ 
1  • .         * .  i.  * • *  .  ' "  " ' « 

SUPPOSED  TO  BE  WRITTEN  BY  MKS.  O  MARVIN.  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 
HER  MOTHER. 

"*.*-      ;'«  .  *  v»-'  . '?  •   •'*•  ^   "•.«* 

No  mother,  no  friend  !  they  have  borne  her  away, 
And  laid  her  all  helpless  and  cold  in  the  clay ; 
No  mother  have  I,  but  her  spirit  shall  be, 
'Till  I  follow  her  home,  a  kind  beacon  to  me. 

8* 

.v;      •  •.     .-  ^.':.x"    • 


90    ."  •  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.     - 

t  '          .-    .  y.  A-  V  "-••'-        •    •    **.  •*•' 

*/  >»•'     '        •'     "•*      '      .''-  '      •  '«•.""•  •*,-'*! 

No  mother,  no  friend, — the  fire-side  of  my  youth 
fs  invaded  by  strangers^,  deserted  by  truth  ; 
The  smiles  of  affection  that  welcomed  my  stay, 
.   All  faded  and  fled,  when  they  bare  her  away.  '  ', ,  * 

My.  mother,  my  friend,  wheji  I  knew  thy  last  breath 
Had  escaped  from  thy  lips,  'mid  the  anguish  of  death, 
IQ  the  frenzy  of  hope,  as  I  hung  o'er  thy  be.d,' 
.  J  would  not,  I  could  not,  imagine  thee  tlead. 


.-  ,  ,  - 

Dear  mother,  farewell ;  when  over  thy  tomb 

The  green  grass  shall  gro.w,  and  the  wild  flowers  bloom, 

While1  sorrowing  over  my  happier  years, 

111  water  their  beautiful  blossoms  with  tears. 


;,V  -.SONG.'' 

•  The  wakening  sun,  with  rosy  hue, 

Among  the  casement  buds  is  peeping  ; 

.•The  birds  are  carolling  anew,  '  .<"• ' 

Yet  thqu,  alas,  my  love,  art  sleeping. 

Jt  J     *''    '*•*•'      '       *    *      •*"»•'*        •vlm^"*'  *.'f    *"  »•*«..*"»'. 

Awake,  awake, — the  breathing  morn,,    >V.:; 

'O'er  dewy  rose  and  Woodbine  stealing,  v 

/*'  '         •  •          ' 
Woos  the  sweet  beauties  newly  born, 

And  blushes  o'er,  the  charms  revealing.  *  .-, 


THE,   FIRST     ROSES     OF     SPRING.^  91 

•   "  <~*f    * .  '  r     ^*  •     ' .  '»*"».  ' 

Awake,  and  ope  ihose  liquid  eyes, 

That  'neath  silk  fringes  hide  their  beaming ; 

Awake  in  beauty,  and  surprise., 

The  infant  sun's  gay  dawn  of  gleaming.  .;£     .  ^  ' 

TH-E   FIRST   ROSES   OF   SPRING. 

Ye  are  come  my  sad  heart  to  beguile,..' 

In  the  blush  of  your  beautiful  hue5;  & 
The  fairest  and  welcomest  flowers  that  smile, 

Within  the  wide  arch  of  blue.         ;     v 

From  Araby  odors  ye  -bring',   •.;'/'< 

And  ye  steal  the  warm  tints  from  the  sky,    ^ 
And  scatter  your  pearly  bright  beauties  in  spring, 

As  if  nature- ne'er  meant  you  to  die. 

**  %  •'"    ',  '.»•  '** '•  ' f  ••  •  ,% '", 

The  soft  crimson  blush  of  each  lip, 

'Mong  the  green  leaves  and  buds  that  abound 
Seems  pouting  in  richness,  and  parted  to  sip 
The  dew  that  is  falling  around. 

Ye  bow  to  the  breath  of  the  Morn, 

And  cover  his  wings  with  perfume  ; 
And  woo  the  gay  bee  in  the  earliest  dawn, 

To  rest  on  your  bosoms  of  bloom. 


92  MISJCELLANEOTJS'    POEMS. 

Ye  have  brought  back  the  passion  of  love, 
For  a  moment  to  warm  my  lone  breast, 

•       - "'  "i  ,  '«•.,  *    .  •    .    •      i 

And  pointed' to  undying  roses  above,    %-''V: 
That  smile  through  eternity's  rest. 


SMILES  AND  TEARS.,// 


i       '  .  •  .  ••..- 

Bright  are  the  smiles  around  rosy  lips  straying",' 

Half  parted  in  sweetness,"  unknown  to  betraying, 
Like  Love  in  his  beauty  'round'  may-flowers  playing. 
bright  are  the  smiles.  • 

' 


Sweet  are  the  tears  from  the  fountains  of  feeling,  • 
Whe.n  the  blush  of  the  soul  brightens  tip  at  revealing     . 
The  'sympathies  treasured  "too  long  for.  concealing. 
How  sw.e'et  are  the  tears. 

Yet  sweeter,  when  meeting,  like  dew-drops  on  roses, 
The  smile  drinks  the  tear,  and  a  rainbow  discloses, 
Overarchipg  the  heart,  where  in  love  it  reposes,. 
The  gem  of  'the  soul. 


TO    SORROW.  93 


TO   SORROW. 
.>~  '»..'•  •  .    - .  '.'<:'••  -; 

Oh,  Sorrow,  thou  weed  of  the  mind, 

Engender'd  and  djtrken'd  by  care  ; 
Thou  pale,  wither'd  wreath,  for  oppression  to'bind 

Round  the  comfortless  brow  of  despair";-' . 
Thou  stealest  from  beauty  its  roses  away, 
While  the  life-blossoms,  withering,  droop  and  decay. 

Oh,  Sorrow,  say  why  dost  thod  cling  • 

So  close  to  the  bosom  of  pain  ; 
Say,  does  not  affliction  sufficiently  sting, 

That  thou  should'st  repeat  it  again  ? 
And  why  from  the  heart,  'mid  the  anguish  of  years, 

Dost  thou  ring  thro'  the  eye  the  sad  streamlets  of  tears  ? 
.  •'  i  •          '•''•,    "•  •  ** '  •  7   .-  •  *  •  V ••*       •  •  /* '.   «•"'. 

Do,  Sorrow,  let  innocence  rest, 

And  smile  upon  childhood  and  youth ; 
Be-  gayety,  folly,  or  beauty  thy  guest,      ;V; ' 

But  favor  the  flowrets  of  truth  ; 
Spare,  spare  the  young  branches  their  delicate  form, 
And  break  not  the  boughs  that  bend  under  the  storm. 


i  .  .  f 

94  '•.  ^.MISCELLANEOUS    PQE.MS. 


,»*'.  TO    ..,...-. 

:-''''•  ;¥^     * '"        ,"  .';.     '' 

I  would  not  twine  a  wreath  of  flowers, 

To  grace  my  simple  song;    ' 
Their  sweets  are  like  love's  fleeting  hours, 
't,'  Too  bright  'to  linger  long,  .  • 

May  cheering  Hope,  'with,  angel  smile, 
Throw  sunbeams  o'er  youn tears;  > 

And  pleasure  gild  the  path  of  toil, 
Along  the  vale  of  years. 

'.     -  '-.  '•  •    •'*'      '•»*" 

May  every  wish  thy  soul  can  know,     .   ^  ./ 

Affection's  brightest  ray, 
Be  thine — a  .lingering  charm  to  throw*  ' 
Arovyid  life's  chequer'd  way. 

•  -,V -\iV-r i# 'i'f-s--*??*  fef^^^j-V  •.*"'•"  "I- 
LINES 

Written  in  Clifton  Grove,  near  Nottingham,  England,  the  favorite 
haunt  of  the  lamented  HENRY  KIRKE  WHITE. 

The  blushes  of  morning  had  tinged  the  blue  -sky, 

As  I  gazed  'on- the  beautiful  sqefie  p 
The  wild- bird  was  teaching  its  nestlings  to  fly 

O'er  the  flower-studded  vista  of  green. 


LINES.  95 

On  its  bosom  the  viplet  ancl  king-cup  appear'd, 

And  cowslips  and  primroses  smiled  ; 
Where  knots  of  dark  blue-bells  in  beauty  .were  rear'd, 

And  crimson-tipp'd  daisies  grew  wild. 

The  gotd-blossom'd  furze,  the  maythorn  its  bloom  ; 

The  lark  a$  it  warbled  its  song ;  •'..  • 

The  dark,  embower' d  shades  of  impervious  gloom,-    ,  .- 

'And  the,  river  that  glided  along — 

* ' .  * "  •  *  '*."  •  '  i  ' « 

Were  Sweet  to  my^view,  and  the  shadowy  tree, 

'The  rose  just,  emerged  from -its  bud, 
The  moss-eover'd  bank  that  enclosed  the  green  lea,  - 
Smiled  fair  from  the  mound  where  I  stood. 

And  oft  in  the  glade,  from  the  cliff's1  rugged  height, 
Have  I  gazed  on  the  scene  when  ajotte  ;    .•••  't\ 

Watch'd  the'  fisher-boy's  skiff  as  it  glanced  on  my  sight, 
And  fancied  the  prospect  my  own.  •>.  • 

•    '  '  t         i  '•»'* 

No  more  through  thy  shades  may  I  pensively  stray,' 

When  eve  on  thy  blossoms  shall  blow  ; 
As  night  gives  a  charm  to  the  moonbeams  that  play, 
Through  thy  trees,  on  the  waters  below. 


9.G  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

"~        .'•    » •'  jp  •."'.••••'.'  "  •'  *"•' 

Farewell  to  thy  beautiful  rosy-wreathed  bowers  ; 

'  /    T"ar  over  the  ocean  I  rove  ; 
Yet  the  brightest  of  scenes  in  my  happiest  hours, 
Will  breathe  of  the  sweet  Clifton  Grove.. 


- 


.'      A,.  PICTURE. 

*  '  •*•'•«»'  • »    • 

»•*          P»     *  „•  - .  '      «    .         «-»'          '  •  * 

I  saw  her  when  her  morn  of  life  was  young, 

In  loveliness,  like  maiden  flowers  of  spring^ 
A  fawn-like  beauty  beaming  from  her  eyes, 
A  music  breathing  in  her  soft  warm  sighs; 
Adown  her  neck  the  waving  tresses  hung, 
•  Aro.un'd  her  srqijes  a  thousand  beauties  clung, 

The  dimple  slyly  peeping  'neath  the  rose; 
Her  brow"  o'ershaded  by  her  locks  of  gold, 

A  bosom  wThere  Hope's  bird  had  built  her  nest, 

T.o  be  by  sorrow  early  dispossest. 

For"  love  crept  in  with  sly  insidious  art, 

i  -  .  :  •'  .  i  •    " 

And  filch'd  th«  fervor  of  her  guileless  heart ; 

Charmed  Tike  a  snake,  and  left  a  fatal  sting, 
That  flush 'd  her  cheek  and  mock'd  her  soul's  reptose  ; 
Stole  the  rich  gem  that  elasp'd  her  chain  of  truth, 
id  her  blighted  youth. 


.    .THOSE     RINGLETS.  £ 

,'        •     •      '    '''  •.'      "'     ..        .-•  '•     -'/        JV'.  '     /'       •  ...>      * 

Can  merciy  o'er  the  wretch  her  wings  unfold, 

Or  gild  his  perjured  treachery  with  gold  ? 

Too  soon  for  him  remorse  and  shame  will  come, 

And  festering  in  his  bosom  find  a  home. 

t    *  *    '*  '  i;  •  * 

Or  if  unscathed  life's  waste  he  passes  through, 

Eternity  w«ill  shape.a  vengeance  due.  .' i,'^ 

./**'"'••,       •  '  •  •!  >  •' 


r  * 


THOSE   RINGLETS. 


Mark'd  you  the  wavy  tresses'  graceful  flow, 
In  glossy  fulness  o'er  that  neck  of  snow  ? 
And  that  fair  brow,  whose  clust'ring  ringlets  play 
Where  the  blue  veins  in  shadowy  richness  lay. 
Here,  bound  in  silken  net-work  scarce  confined, 
There,  gently  waving  sportive  in  the  wind  ; 
Here,'  where  the  golden  fillet  faintly  shines, 
Beneath  the  auburn  richness  it  confines, 
While  raven-wing'd  in  beauty  float  those  curls, 
Beneath  a  diadem  of  clust'ring  pearls. 

9 

'. 

'    '  -  '*.    :.. 


/•.     •     -         .-.f.ffTv  •  •  ••  •       •  :  w^A^L"    '..',-.  •  *.  ^ 

,;.;/   ••*.•.;:;  •   ':,-     '•:&&& 

y8  MISX:ELLANEOU'S  POEM.S/ 


- 

'  .  -.     » 

SHIPWRECKED   SAILOR   BQtf 

'.*.  %>'"  r.*,  v'vvV.V  'J^y  '^  ' 

The  mom  has  fled  the  brow  of  night, 

a'  *V:  •  % '  •  •    - '  '*•''    ''*'  ••'  •  *•*'•  *  •       \    *•    .    -.  "^t  i^ 

,    The  blue  waves  wash  the  crag's  rough  side  ; 

'Tis  dark  arid  cheerless,  save  the  light 

'.''    Of  yon  pale  star,  my  feet  to  guide ; 

On  unknown  rocks  my  bark  is  dash'd, 

My  locks  are  drench 'd,  no  help  j$  nigh  ;  . 
Where  danger  yawns  by  waves  I'm  wash'd, 

Without  a  hope,  the  Sailor  Boy. 

'-•.-;..         .  . 

•„         *    ••  .>Jfl  "%.     •-,        ',-».- 

My  home  is  far  across  the  main, 

Where  nature  strews  her  wildest  flbwersy 
\Vheie  freedom  leads,  her  smiling  train, 

And  Beauty  gilds  the  gliding  hours.;  * 
But  home,  alas,  no  more  will  cheer, 

Friends  will  heave  the  anxious  sigh  ; 
While  I. alone,  'mid  deserts  drear, 

May  wander  wild,  the  Sailor  Boy. 

He  spoke,  and  loud  the  tempest  beat, 

The  winds  re-echoed  far  and  near  ; 

"  L  '#  »'  -'•' 

The  waves'  hoarse  murmuring  lash'd  his  feet, 

His  cheek  grew  pale,  he  shrunk  with  fear ; 


'     '.   "    •    ::'-" 

-tff  •' 

•m 


; -*'* 

LINES    ADDRESSED     T,0    FRIENDS.  99 


Till  all  at  once,  more  loud,  more  dread,       *  . 

As  if  impatient  to  destroy, 
They  rush'd  impetuous  o'er  his  head, 

^*  •>  L  ,         . 

And  sunk  in  death  the  Sailor  Boy. 


LINES  ADDRESSED  TO  FRIENDS,;. 

•*;V^KV/i  :  '•    ..•  v^V 

Off    THEIR    LEAVING    EVGLA.VD    FOR    AMERICA. 
\\  .  '<>."'L,:^     '•"..   'i?*  jj.^ 

Fare  ye  well,  yet  pause  awhile, 

Where  love  and  friendship  weeping  stand  ; 

Where  all  the  flowers  of  nature  smile, 
And  woo  you  to  your  native  land  ; 

The  scenes  of  youth,  and  childhood's  joys, 

No  more  shall  greet  your  longing  eyes. 

Adieu,  adieu. 

fc;iil  "  T 

.  ";*\  '.'  Vc  '•'•    ,      , 

Whert  at  eve,  his  circuit  roll'd, 

The  blushing  sun  retires  from  view  ; 
Scattering  wide  his  scales  of  gold 

O'er  the  waters,  darkly  blue, 
Ocean  wild  his  billowy  bed, 
With  night  the  curtain  round  him  spread. 

Then  think  on  me. 


..    •-..       .      . 

100  MISCELLANEOUS     POEMS.. 

f.  :•     \.l',  •'.*•' 


When  the  tempest  rends  the  sky, 

When  the  waves  in  fury  roll ; 
When  the  white  foam  gathers  high, 

And  the  thunder  shakes  the  pole, 
When  the  bolts  of  heaven  are  hurled, 
Look  aloft,  beyond  the  world, 

;;*WheteaU'iscAljnv'. 

''^•f'^ 

.  Fare  ye  well — respond  the  word, 

And  as  your  white  cliffs  fade  from  view, 

•>• 

One  look  of  love,  one  tear  afford, 

One  longing,  ling'ring,  warm  adieu  ; 
And  when  recedes  her  last  green  hill,. 
Breathe  in  a  sigh,  I  love  thee  still, 

My  father's  home. 

'1  "9    "'  •  '  * .  If  » 

..'-  V.  •  •"      ...   -TPfT'- 


BEAUTY'S  BOWERS. 

Away,  away  to  Beauty's  bovvers, 

Young  Love  is  smiling,  away  away  ; 
Let  us  scatter  the  pearls  from  the  rosy- cup 'd  floweVs, 

And  kiss  the  bright  morning's  early  ray.' 


BEAUTY'S   BOWERS.  101 

Away,  away  where  the  woodbine  creeps,: 
Round  the  blushing  rose  in  the  lonely  glen  ; 

We'll  trip  it  along  where  the  young  fawn  sleeps, 
And  wake  the  lark  to  his  song  again. 

T  Away,  away,  while  the  sylvan  lutes 
'  /Are  breathing  their  softest  notes  fpr  thee  ; 
And  blossoms  still  linger,  unwilling  that  fruits 
. Should  :rob  them. of  beauties  so  wild  and  free. 

\*        *          \*  *'  '  •  *'*  •     »  'V  ' 

;„'•'.  "-;:'         "':>  *•*'•• -Y-  .  ''••.'•  '.-  .'..' 

Away,  away  to  the  winding  brooks, 

Where  the  hazels  deep  shadow  the  beautiful  streams  f 
Away,  ere  the  suti  tj'er  the  mountains  looks,    ,;'•'*• 
,;*  And  mars  the  flowers  with  his  fiery  beams..  •  •"' 

Away,  away  to  our  own  loved  grot, 

And  we'll  echo  our  warmest  vows  to-day; 

Love's  holding-a  feast  in  the  blooming  spot, 
And  beckons  us  thither — away,  away.. 

Away,  away,  where  the  young  god  sleeps;     ;'•_•;•*'• 

Of  the  rosy  lip  and  the  laughing  eye  ; 
Strewing  his  smiles  where  sorrow  weeps, 

And  stealing  a  pang  from  the  parting  sigh. 
9* 


102  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

.»  *  i        "  ' 

*  '     '  .  .'*  . •       '      '  ,        >k  '*,...  •         ' 

Away,  aw^y,  though  the  roses  fade, 

Aad'the  sun  from  his  warm  summer  beaming  sever, 
Yet  love  shall  sprinkle  his  rays  q'er  the  shade, 

And  light  up  affection's  urn  forever. 


THE   PARTING, 


,:' 

Fatewell !  ahd  I  could  say  no  more,   ' 
•    ,    .  The  chords  that  tuned  the  soul  were  broken  ; 
Her  tears  ran  eloquently  o'er, 
,    Refsponsive  to  my  parting  token. 

i  •  ,'•'••».  'i    .*.  '*•.   •'  'i*t*+?"?r    »f  *'-'/•-*  '''  V; *'•*:•;*  '*  •* 

.  .  •  «  i  .  * . » 

Farewell !  ytet  oh  'tis  hard  to  part, 

When  memory  wrings  the  tortured  soul ; '  -•.*. 

And  death-like  streams  around  the  heart 
Their  withering  tide  of  feelings  roll. 

•*.         ''  "~     ',-''•  *!»•  •".'  •   • 

'.     •'''••*  ''y^'/'Ty*''*  '•*. ' "'  v.  ^-'* '' '  •'  • 

Farewell,  hope's  fondest,  latest  ray, 
In  gem-like  tear-drops  sparkled  there, 

Affection  gazed  her  soul  away, 

Thea  hurrying  wildly,  sought  despair. 


I 

SONG.  lOo 


ACROSTIC   TO   E.    B.   W. 

-V  •.'•'>£ 

Each  rosy  smile  that  lights  thy  radiant  eye,  '  f    '•?•"' 

Beams  like  the  rays  that  gild  a  summer  sky, 

When  young  Aurora  dips  her  wings  in  light, 

And  throws  his  bright  beams  o'er  a  world  of  night. 

Round  thy  fair  form  each  grace  of  nature  plays., 

Reflected  in  a  thousand  beauteous  rays  ; 

Ethereal  virtue,  like  an  angel's  wing, 

Nursed> thy  pure  soul,  and  bade  such  beauties  spring.  * 


..  SONG. 

•„.*.'**.<•*  , 


AIR — "  Here's  a  health  to  one  tjove  dear." 

<v  •  V*  '  .  •      >     '.      '"  :W 

Here's  a  bumper  brimful  for  our  friends, 

And  a  frown  and  a  fig  for  our  foes  ; 
And  may  he  who  stoops  meanly  to  gain  his  own  ends, 
Never  more  know  the  sweets  of  repose..   ',.,    ,x  . 

Though  folly  and  ignorance  join, 

To  blight  the  young  buds  of  our  fame, 

Their  slander  a  moment  may  injure  the  vine, 
But  its  fruits  will  be  blushing  the  same. 


..  .  . 

104  MISCELLANEOUS 

*  * 


Then  here  is  a  bumper  to  truth,. 

May  its  banners-  wave  wide  as  the  world, 
•.'•And  a  fig. for  the  mortal,  in  age  or  in  youth, 
Who  has  not  its  banner  unfurPcL 


• 
FAREWELL  TO     :;/;!." 


-.  -. 

•   Farewell,  the  star  of  hope  grows  pale 

Uponjone  memory's  shoreless  chart; 
And  wearied,  lingering  moments  fail, 
•  To  bring  lost  pleasures  to  my.heaft. 

Farewell,  I  love,  to  link  the  past 

With  what  my  trembling  heart  now  feels  ;    • 
,\.    Like-  sunbeams  over  shadows  cast, 

••'•'      '*•••  '  ''ill  j  t    '  '        ••»•***'»*       H.  ' 

That  many  a  cherish'd  joy  reveals. 

••  w  • 
•  Farewell  ;  yet  should  Time's  broken  wing-, 

Fail  in  her  long,  adventurous  flight, 
Pe'rchance  eternity  may  bring 

The  promised  bliss,  in  worlds  of  light. 


LOVE    AND    THE     BUTTERFLY.,  105 


THE   WISH. 

I  wish,  but  oh,  I  dare  not  say, 
The  warmest  wish  I  feel  for  thee  ; 

I  wish  thine  hours  may  float  as  gay 
As  sunbeams  o'er  the  dark  blue  sea. 

I  need  not  ask  thy  form  more  fair, 
Thine  eye  more  fall  of  sympathy,. 

Thine  own  sweet  smile,  while  lingering  there, 
Forbids  the  thoughtless  wish  for  thee. 

Yet  may  I  wish  thee  brighter  years, 
A  bosom  free  from  every  sorrow, 

A  cheek  unblanch'd  by  pain  or  tears, 
And  smiles  for  every  future  morrow. 

•'.*'-•  .  •.    .-         "        __  .       .•     :  .'. 


LOVE   AND   THE   BUTTERFLY. 

Love  wander'd  one  day  by  the  Butterfly's  wing, 

And  they  flitted  from  bower  to  bower, 
While  gayly  he  sung  of  the  beauties  that  spring 
In  the  far  off  groves,  where  the  nightingales  sing, 
And  they  revell'd  from  flower  to  flower. 


.>,.: 

f  E  0  D  S    P  < 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 
«••'•'        «w. '    f      '  •  5w     « 

The  Butterfly  spread  his  bright  wings  so  gay, 
And  painted  them  o'er  and  -o'er  ; 

-•*  *•  ..»'-.?•"" 

And  shook  the  warm  tints  in  the  sunny  'ray, 
And  welcomed  the  rosy  god  to  play, 

» 

And  he  thought  of  his  cafes  no  more. 

.-,'  '*'>*'  ;''*?.  \^'  ;':^' •'••'/'.'".''" -7 ^' '''"'V-V*  "^  ''"»'•• '••' ' 
The  air  was  balm,  and  the  meadows  were  .gay, 

And  beauty  was  laughing  around, 
And  light  were  their  hearts  on  that  bright  summer  day, 
With  the  rich  blossoms  blushing  on  every  spray, 
*  'And  the1  ripe  fruits  clustering  round. 

*••  :  *      *  ••"*  '»     »•"•••'          i  *  :K&        '••       '  4k. 

They  travelled  afar  from  the  Butterfly's  bower, 

WTaere  his  mother  was  drooping  her  wing, 
Sighing,  Why  has  he  wander'd  frpm  flower  to  flower, 
Ere  his  delicate  pinions  have  gain'd  their  power, 

While  he  yet  is  so  young  a  thing? 
.  »         • .-   «  •»*.•..  v  .'    • .      •  *   '  "  -  i 

,';,  >       . 

A  storm  came  on,  and  they  lost  their  way, 

....  ;Jik;*  •" 

As  the  Butterfly  weary  had  grown  ; 
And  the  young  god  smiled  when  he  saw  him  lay, 
Saying,  This  is  no  place  for  love  to  stay; 

And  he  left  him  to  perish  alone. 

;;       *  "      •  ••--. ••••VflF''  -"'-  \  iv.-.  v/^'-"-r'-       :'  S 


V 

WILSON    TO    HIS    SISTER    SARAH. 


107 


P.   E,  WILSON   TO   HIS   SISTER   SARAH. 

•  ,  *r  '  ,  *  *    "* 

*.   - 

.'•  • 

.ON    HER   HAVING    LEFT    HOME    FOR   A.  DISTANT   SCHOOL. 

-'•.;'/•  A,:^'  •     V' 

! 

We  miss  thee,  sister,  when  the  morn 
Breathes  fragrance  over  hill  and  dale  ; 

We  miss  thee,  when  the  meal-time  horn 
Winds  its  wild  echoes  through  the  vale  ;• 

We  miss  thee  in  the  noontide's  ray 

•»;•».'. 

Beneath  the  locust's  silver  flowers  ; 
We  miss  thee  at  the  close  of  day, 

WThen  sunset  gilds  the  lingering  hours  ; 
We  miss  thee  when  the  blushing  sky, 

Laughs  over  nature's  bloom  in  joy  ; 
We  miss  thine  eye's  dark,  beaming  ray, 

Thy  bounding  foot,  and  gleesome  play  : 

^f  t  •    '       .  .  '  ' 

I  miss  thee,  sister,  when  I've  been 

O'er  crag  and  dell,  'mid  forests  green  ;   .• 
I  miss  thy  light,  and  joyous  call, 
By  tangled  brake,  or  waterfall  ; 


I  miss  thee  by  the  purling  run, 
Where  minnows  sparkle  'neath  the  sun  ; 
And  we,  more  wild  and  blest  then  they, 
Upon  the  mossy  banks  would  play, 


.  * 

%-    -.-  -v     :;  •    iii:          S^ah 

108  -MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

r  %    *  .     ;  4 

.         .  *  i    * 

Qr  sit  beneath  the  shade  for  hours 

.    Entwining  garlands  gay  of  flowers. 

,1  miss  thee  when  the  berries  blush, 

.  ^Tn  yon  deep  glen,  on  briar  or  bush  ; 

For  when  I  prick'd  my  finger,  thy 

Sweet  tears  would  fill  in  either  eye, 

"  '  •  '  "*  v   •    -'  •  -•    »   .  '  •"  \J    •  y  ' 

•  And  I  would  take  thy  hand  in  playv  : 
K     And  kiss  those  pearly  tears  away;     Y 
\N'hile  coaxing  thee  to  cry  no  more, 

I  loved  thee  better  than  before.'  '. 
'  .  '  -  .   A* 

I  miss  thee  when  the  thunder  call 

/Dies  into  murmurs  through  the  hall  ; 
How'  we  in  scenes  so  dread  would  cling, 
And  whisper—  'ti-s  a"  fearful  thing. 
Time  may  restore  thee,  thou  loved  token, 
A'  jewel  polish'd  and  unbroken  ; 
But  will  there  be  the  laughing  eye, 
The  a'rtless  look,  the  wild  reply? 
The  young  unstudie^-.grace  that  brought  '.i^'*-  , 

A  truth  and  strength  to  every  thought  ; 

'•  i     *•'->•'»'• 

The  fervor  of  a  love,  that  bore 

A  richness  ever  teeming  o'er  ; 
The  sympathetic  tear  that  play'd 
In  pity's  softest,  sweetest  shade  ; 


V.  ^  ;'f" 

THE.  DEATH   OF   P.    E.    WILSON.  109 


The  careless  laugh,  gay,  wild  and  free, 
And  ah,  the  same  warm  love  for  me  ! 
Say,  sister,  will  not  other  joys 
Steal  those  we  now  so  fondly  prize  ? 
While  sweetness,  innocence  and  truth, 
But  ripen  with  thy  growing  youth  ; 
Or  will  the  powers  of  reason  play, 
•To  steal  the  opening,  bloom  away  ? ,., 

*  •  •  *€  *   •  f .' 

But  hushj  I  know  thou'lt  ever  be 
As  good,  and  mild,  and  kind  to  me. 


ES    0? 


LINES  ON  THE  DEATH   OF  P.  E.  WILSON, 

f<  X^v  \    '  *;:«»' -•?%*:,    . 

SOSf.OF    A.    J.    WILSON,    NEAR    DANVILLE,    KY. 

Oh,  'twas  a  mournful  sight — the  jaws  of  Death 
Not  long  were  busy,  yet  his  whetted  fangs  ^-- 
Became  insatiate.     How  calm  he  seem'd^ 
.  Wooing  with  angel  smile  the  dark,  strong  power, 
Already  tugging  at  the  silver  cords 
That  bound  his  soul  to  earth  :  he  knew7  his  fate, 
-Yet  strengthen'd  by  the  arm  that  conquer'd  death, 
He  smiled  on  all  around,  his  own  sweet  smile 
Now  lighted  up  by  love  ;  the  conscious  tears 
10 


r     * 

£;*• ;.;' 


1.10  /MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

jj,*-'  Xike  gems,  fast  falling,  dropp'd  from  'every  eye.  - 
So  young,  so  beautiful,  and  so  beloved  ; 
Earth  had  no  place  for  such  exotic  rare,*-  - 
And  Bngels  wooed  him  to  a  brighter  world. 
Sleep  on,  thine  image  lives  within  the  heart 
Of  vail  who  knew  Jthee,  and  thy  modest  worth 
Needs  no  proud  monument  to  tell  thy  praise. 


THE  MOTHER'S  LAMENT  FOR  HER  SON 

Softly  he  sleeps — yet  his  freed  spirit  hears 
His  mdther's  moans,  or  drops  'mid  her's  bis  tears ; 
.jlf  saints  weep  tears,  such  sympathy  and  love; 
Blending,  perchance,  may  form  the  stars  above. 

Oh  might  this  be,  then  should  a  mother's  eye 
Be  frequent  pointed  to  that  far  off  sky, 
To  gain  a  token  from  some  shining  gem, 
That  glittering  beams  amid  night's  diadem. 

.'•*-  •*•  7  '  ."*-,' 

And  her  lone  heart  would  hail  the  happy  tide,. 
That  bore  her  spirit  to  his  long-loved  side  ; 
And  there  commingling,  like  their  smiles  and  tears, 
In  union  blend,  to  shine  through  countless  years.  .'. 

-        :       f. 


TO    ONE     I     ONCE     MET.  Ill 

clSfe          irf§: 

TO  ONE  I  ONCE  MET. 

*"  "'  .  '  .    V-  .* 

•    l      '         .   v*        .  "**. '  ^ ' 

Lady,  whose  eyes  of  liquid  light,  N  y,  ' 
,   In  gem-like  beauty  met  my  sight, 
Whose  gentle  tones  were  music's  soul, 
Soft  as  o'er  angel  lips  might  roll ; 
Whose  smiles  were  like  spring's  opening  flowers, 

In  nature's  own  domestic  bowers,;.. 

"'  t  n  < 

Whose  mind  from  o'er  those  sweet  lips  straying, 

Seem'd  eloquence  in  wildness  playing  ; 
Whose  grace,  and  elegance,  and  ease,  *    « 

Might  cause  no  other  form  to  please. 

•'. 
Lady,  I  ne'er  may  meet  again 

Such  movements  of  delicious  pain  ; 
It  was  indeed  a  pain  to  part, 
That  left  an  anguish  round  my  heart ; 
For  oh,  such  glowing  colors  fly 
But  once  across  life's  fitful  sky. 


•112  -MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


.  .  ,  .•  -  --  .    .  -v 

ON    SEEIICG    A,  STRIKING    PORTRAIT,    BY   VENABLK,    OF    A    LITTLE  -GIRL, 

•DAUGHTER   OF   T.    MITCHELL,    ESQ. 
-*  t    »      x  *  '"  -  f  f  '  C'»  s  •** 

RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED   TO   THE    ARTIST.  ', 

•,'•'  p'  V   ".«'.'.^^vi  '^•yCv;?V:p  ^  •'•:'.• 

A  beautiful  child,  in  its  innocent  play, 
Had  wander'd  the  fields,  from  its  home  far  away  ; 
And  the  butterflies  hover'd  around  her  for'  hours,  .v  . 
Mistaking  her  cheek's  rosy  blushes  for  flowers  ; 
How  light  was  her  laugh,  and  her  footsteps  how  free, 
As  the  mocking-birds  echoed  her  wild  chanting  glee. 

No  thought  of  the  past,  or  a  care  for  the  morrow,  • 
Ere  open'd,  ill  finger'd,  the  curtains  of  sorrow  ; 
The  past  was  young  rose-buds,  all  folded  in  love, 
For  a  future  of  roses  —  and  ^oh  may  they  prove, 
As  thine  innocence  paints  them,  in  fancy's  young  morn, 
All  dew-lipp'd  and  blushing,  and  free  from  a  thorn. 

How  gayly  she  gathers  the  flowers  for  a  bed, 
Or  playfully  weaves  th'em  in  wreathes  for  her  head  ; 
Or  sits  herself  down  by  the  brook  in  her  play,  '• 
And  dabbles  her  fo'ot'as  it  ripples  away. 
Trip  home  little  Lu,  you've  been  absent  for  hours, 
And  the  sun  lays  aslant  on  the  grass  and  the  flowers, 


TO     MISS 113 

And  your  Ma  has  been  waiting  and  looks  for  you  now,' 
With  a  kiss  on  her  lip  for  your  beautiful  brow ;    - 
And  your  Papa  is  scolding,  and  frets  at  your  stay,.  » 
For  he  never  feels  right  when  his  Lu  is  away. 


ACROSTIC   TO   E.    H.   P.    T. 

*  ':       \ '  *  •**• 

Each  blest  young  joy  affection's  soul  can  feel, 

Hourly  be  thine,  life's  truest  warmest  weal, 

Pcrnr  a  rich  tribute  o'er  thy  future  years, 

Taking  from  sorrow  all  its  bitter  tears,      .  ' 

And  strewing  hope's  spring,  sweetest,  fairest  flowers, 

Like  thornless  rose-buds,  over  scented  hours  ; 

Bright'ning  thy  prospect  through  the  vale  of  tears, 

Over  the  hills  of  age,  beyond  long  years, 

Till  angels  bear  thee  on  the  wings  of  Love, 

To  that  blest  land  that  saints  enjoy  above. 


TO   MISS 

•  »s '  •• 

Thy  smiles  come  like  a  gold  wing'd  beaming  star, 
From  out  the  blue  of  yonder  world  afar, 
When  sorrow's  midnight  shrouds  my  soul  with  care, 
And  new-born  griefs  seem  hovering  o'er  despair ; 

10* 


Thine  eyes,  like  violets,  through  a  silken  vine, 
Fringed  darkly,  smile,  and  smiling  sweetly  shine, 
Till,  like  the  sun-kiss'd  dew-drop  on  the  rose, 
Each  sorrow  seems  a-gem  in  sweet  repose. 

'  ~ 


. 
ACROSTIC   TO  IE..  T. 

•W".   ,'.,?'<         .•  "'»'•      te*  •*•*"'/•  •'<!'.$-;, 

»••*'.'.•        .-••.'  .*         '  «,  \  ~  * 

Each  joy  be  thine,  my  beautiful,  my  own;,    i 
Loved  of  my  soul,  in  hope,  and  loved  alone  ; 
In  the  warm  glances  of  thy  dark  blue  eye", 
Zeal  blends  with  truth,  and  sympathy  with  joy  ; 
Among  the  cherish'd  wishes  of  thine  heart, 
Be  mine  the  lot  to  share  some  sunny  part  ; 
Each  flower  thou  lovest  I  will  watch  with  care, 
Tend  it  for  thee,  and  in  thy  wishes  share. 
How  throbs  my  bosom  when  thy.  gentle  voice, 
Touches  some  chord  tHai  makes  my  heart  rejoice  ; 
Imagination  bids  new  beauties  rise, 
Lends  wings  to  Hope,  and  pencils  from  the  skies. 
Lend  me  thy  heart,  I'll  guard  it  so  from  pain, 
E'en  time  shall  .never  wish  it  back  again 
Trust  in  my  faith,  my  beautiful,  my  own, 
Trust  in  that  faith  that  leans  on  thee  alone 

'•     /  v-"Vf?v'-  -""  ji 

i  •  ••*  ••      •  Ot* 

'  *• 


;  '  m/  •  •  :.•-.'         JM 

OPENING     LINES.  115 


OPENING  LINES, 

;;..../-  •  ^.-.  '  '.'••Vv 

-.ON  PRESENTING  AN  ALBUM  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

A  simple  tribute  of  esteem — 

The  gift  of  early  youth  ;  - 

"'    .  '   "  •  •'>*   ••• 

And  may  its  pages  ever  beam 

"•'•        ' 

With  purity  and  truth. 

-1        '  » • 

V-      f*.7  *  , 


Unspotted  as  thy  virgin  heart, 
To  whom  it  is  bestow'd  : 

'  -.,*       •    ;   ,*V 

May  each  succeeding  line  impart' 
More  light  along  life's  road. 

And  like  these  pages,  every  year, 

.    As  time's  swift  streamlet  flows  : 

'••'.*••• 
To  thee,  more  sweet  at  morn  appear, 

More  brightly  at  its  close. 

. 

'     •  '  '-  :    m 

And  when  the  gatherer  of  time, 

In  his  last  call  shall  come, 
May  angels  round  thy  death-bed  smile, 
And  waiting,  bear  thee  home. 

IK* 


116  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


ACROSTIC   TO   M.    W. 


May  the  sweet  smile  that  lights  thy  radiant  eye, 
Among  life's  clouds  like  beams  of  sunshine  lie  ; 
Round  thy  young  heart  oh  may  some  angel-care 
Guard  its  light  flutterings  from  each  youthful  snare 
Ere.  time's  'rude  hand  has  blotted  beauty's.  page, 
Rescinded  hope,  or  shook  the  leaves  of  age  ; 
Each  wish  be  thine  that  maiden  worth  can  know, 
Truth,  virtue,  friendship,  or  e'en  love  bestow  ; 
When  years  shall  ripen  thee  for  brighter  joys, 
Oh  then  may  angels  woo  thee  to  the  skies  ; 
O'er  death  triumphant  may  thy  spirit  rest, 

f*'  *.*'•  t  •  |       *  -  *  •  J1  »     %' 

Deep  in  the  bowers  that  canopy  the  blest. 


INVOCATION   TO   SLEEP. 

•'?v«. v.' '"*"•* ;-^'  '"-**.v£*J'''/^-.i-''"*6v •  ':'•£?••'  y' 

WRITTEN   UNDER   FEELINGS   OF    DEEP    SORROW. 

Come,  gentle  sleep,  thou  balm  for  every  ill, 

Who  sorrowing' weep  will  find  thee  potent  still ; 

Thy  aid  impart,  for  thou  and  death  can  heal 

The  broken  sluices  of  the  heart,  and  unknown  joys  reveal. 


INVOCATION     TO     SLEEP.  117 

'••  *•  ^ v.-   v'  '-•  l 

Contrition  sore,  with  barb'd  and  poison'd  fang, 

In  thee  no  more  can  yield  a  vengeful  pang ; 

Oh  steep  my  mind  in  Lethe's  fabled  stream,  ;  ;>,  "•* 

And  senses  bind  in  one  oblivious  dream. 

*••; 

>;.  'tm.».n 


. 

Forgetting  all'  the  fading,  dying  past  ; 

A  proud  heart's  fall,  hope's  rending,  requiem  blast  ; 

The  ties  of  youth  and  consanguinib^i    vi 

The  wreck  of  truth'  and  e'en  first  love's  divinity. 


. 

Take  me  away  'mid  feelings  dark  as  these  ; 
Why  do  I  stay  when  earth  no  more  can  please'? 

'^.  '•  |       N  '  «        - 

The  few  warm  friends  that  cling  around  the  wreck, 
.Scarce  dare  to  venture  o'er  the  broken  deck. 

•;\-\;.  3:  '•••'.''**'''£* 

Oh,  for  a  home  beyond  the  cloudless  blue, 
Where  angels  roam,  and  all  is  bright  and  true  ; 
WThere  sin  or  sorrow  never  wing  their  way, 
O'er  that  broad  morrow  of  eternal  day. 

:•:,•;  .-    : 


..jej  ' 


MISCELLANEOUS  'POEMS. 


ACROSTIC  TO  M.  H.  F.  &. 

i . .  '  v  «•..*•" 

1  '*'•"•  '~     •  *v»  '•-'..  "i  -*JV    V.    ^-••'   •£• 

My  wearied  heart  still  fondly  turns  to  thee, 
*     •  .  jf    '••  *****  •  -f-*» ' 

In^ dreams  of  hope,  too  long  so  madly  cherish'd ; 

Such  dreams  on  passion's  ever  restless  sea, 

So  wild,  and  deep,  have  rarely  else  than  perish'd  ;> 

.  How  my  heart  trembles,  when  the  infant  morn 

Flings  its  young  gold  drops  from  the  opening  sky, 

'So  brightly  beautiful  to  all  but  me, 

V».  '!,  '••••»..     t  V      .•:    •„'.  ••        .    . *  '  .••Hr.  '          "-"'v  •  *  ^  '•'  • 
I  cannot  ope  my  wakening  lids  to  joy  ; 

My  heart  breathes  no  response  to  ought  but  thee, 
So  like  the  dove  I  mourn,  in  fading  hope  forlorn.'  • 


THE   USURER, 

y  :'>  .";'-*«".•'•--.'«     :* •'•  •.•:•    '.„. 

"  Thou  hast  taken  usury  and  increase,  -and  thou  hast  greedily 
gained  of  thy  neighbor  by  extortion,  and  hast  forgotten  me,  saith 
the  Lord  God." — EZEKIEL,  xxii.  12. 


There  is  a  whirlpool  where  the  tide  of  want 
Strives  to  disgorge  its  stern  necessities, 
Forming  a  reef  beneath  the  treacherous  wave, 
To  wreck  and  founder  the  ill-fated  bark. 


THE     USURER.          *'jiV  119 

^•#<  -•.--:-.  ^" 

•  ,  .     .  /'•    ••     .•'•      •:    -*»fe3L.' -:  ';  ••  v.  '••".'  *  .  '.•  '"'•   =       •  "•  *••'•' 
Presiding  o'er  the  vortex  lean  and  lank, 

Made  thin  by  care,  in  noseing  out  distress 
•   And  labor,  gathering  ruin  day  by  day, 
The  usurer  stalks,  with  smooth  and  plastic  face,  • 
Destruction's  jackall,  bringing  bankruptcy 
And  all  its  circling  evils  in  its  train ; 
His  soul  is  self — cased  up  in  misery, 
Dealing  perdition  to  his  brother  man — •    >-\ 
And  subtle  poison,  easing  one  small  sore, 

'   "  •  •&$& .  ^^  •  *   ' '  £*Af  *  4  -    -    *  •>        v 

To  fester  and  gangrene  through  all  the  frame1. 
Making  hearths  desolate,  and  hearts  to  ache, 

'••'•'»        '  '.•'*  '  »&  .  «,!»   *    '  "^-  ~^tf^ 

Creating  foul  abortions  seethed  in  crime, 
That  crawl  from  out  the  slime  his  footsteps  leave ; 
A  blood-swoll'n  horseleech  gasping  Give,  give,  give  ; 
Whose  vase  is  gilded  o'er  with  ill-filch'd  gold, 
And  brimm'd  with  orphans'  and  with  widows'  tears. 

A  scaly  viper  in  the  path  of  want, 
That  feeds  on  men's  necessities,  and  leaves , 
The  bitter  tears  of  anguish  where  he  crawls — 
Making  more  drear  the  path  of  friendlessness, 
And  steeping  destitution  in  despair. 
Robbing  the  law  of  force  in  equity, 
By  felonizing  falsehoods  on  the  bond. 

An  iron  man,  cast  in  a  worn-out  mould. 
Without  or  wheel  or  spring  of  sympathy, 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Within  the  workings  of  the  cold  machine. 
His" god's  the  world,  himself  his  bond  and  gold  ; 
;  And  h'e'  a  lash  to  victimize  mankind, 
Taking  large  loans  on  Aiercy  here  beloWj  i  >•'£,. 
To  be  repaid  throughout  eternity.    . 
H  n        -"•  •'"'•'  .  -4 ''"••*.  i  ^v,, ;/•'*>   -"i:-i\**'ii*.~*''  •••••••/*  •  '*V  •  '.••**& 


v ''-  S^r^tten  at  Seralvo,  Mexico,  a  few  day§  before  the  battle  of  Mon-; 
terqy,  on  receiving  a  letter  from  home. 

AIR—"  The  Wounded  "Hussar-." 
Wearied  and  worn,  far  away  o'er  the  billow, 

^T^  */  ,  J*  .  '          f       f 

Where  mountain  tops  dimly  are  seen  in  the  blue'-; 
On  a  wide-spreading  heath,  with  my  knapsack  my  pillow, 
How  welcome  the  love-breathing  token  from  you. 

v  *.*  y."1'.;'*^/-'1'*     :  'u,i.; -'..V-V'''*  :' .  * 

Though  bright  eyes  are  beammg  in  beauty  around  me, 

And  iairy  feet  move  to  the  lightsome  guitar ; 
Yet  still  there's  a  spell  round  my  heart  that  has  bound  me, 

As  memory  beckons  her  .charms  from  afar.  . 

-  •' ;    '  -  .'«"'  .'  k ''."-' 't?'*''  * '*»  ft 

The  neigh  of  the  war-horse  in  wild  spirit  bounding, 

While  tossing  the  foam  from  his  lip  in  his  pride, 
He  bears  the  young  hero  where  trumpets  are  sounding, 
To  punish  the  foe  that  his  valor  defied. 


~ EXTEMPORANEOUS    LINES.        '    .121 

i«  •  •    i  -  «,-  r*  •»•,»    "  5    - 

The  bustle,  the  clangor,  the  drum's  distant  rolling, 
The  tents  stretching  wide  in  their  martial  array, 

•  . '  •  [    '«•          \  •*  - 

Where  bravery's  sons  every  danger  controlling, 

fcodk  on  like  the  eagles  and.  pant  for  their  prey;-t/  ^ 

*  ,*'  ~-  '-••       •-..  "•<  ' 

Then  on  to  the  battle,  the  bulwark  around  us 

Is  Liberty's  essence,  and  .Valor's  its  sire, 
Nor  mountains  nor  millions  of  ioemen  can  bound  us, 
•  While  vengeance  for  insult  ,has  kindled  our  ire. 


EXTEMPORANEOUS   LINES, 

•'        ./•  •.•;:^*V«*-?i--  '-      .  '  ".  V^W-:'*'*** ''"•••    ' 

On  Tom  Smith,  an  extravagantly  wild,  but  good-hearted  fellow,  who 

called  the  writer  from  his  bed  at  midnight,  locked  -the  door  of  the 
room  they  had,  entered, 'pocketed  the  ke"y,  swore  he  was  about  to 
commit  suicide,  a'nd  that  the  door  should  not  be  unlocked  until 
his  epitaph  was  written. 

Here  lays. poor  Tom,  stone  dead  beside  a  fence, 
With  less- of  truth  and  horiesty  than  sense  ; 
A, crazy  madcap,  ever  in  a  strife, 
Who  treated  sli'angers  and  forgot  his  wife  : 
Who  left  his  home,  his  own  sweet  children's  smile, 
And  sought  'mid  strangers  a  release  from  toil ; 

11 


;•;•••  •  .,  •-!  r  -.  .  .  ; 

122  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

•         '        '  • 


Who  cursed  the  world  with  bitterness,  and  thought 
Its  tenants  had  not  used  him  as  they  ought. 
And  is  he  dead  —  lost  to  the  world  and  me  ? 
Yes,  dead  enough,  —  but  'tis  dead  drunk,  d'ye  see. 


"•'       -  •     •  i      .          ••  1 

MY   NATIVE   BELLS. 


- 

TO   E  .....  .    P  ...'.'..* 

My  native  bells,  the  old  eight  bells, 

ii  *   .  '    % 

How  softly  sweet  their  music  swells, 
*.•  •' 

As  memory,  wand'ring  o'er  the  sea, 

Hears  once  again  their  pealing  glee. 

From  childhood's  houys  I  well  recall, 
The  ivied  church,  the  steeple  tall, 
The  graves,  and  where  the  sexton  dwells, 
Bht  most  my  own,  my  native  bells. 

•'•.*, 
%  "       .  %"  V-  1" 

...  -..£  •  '/-  <./:'"*.    -:  •  ;; 

My  cottage  home  was  trellis'd  o'er 

With  grape-vines,  planted  near  the  door.; 

And  from  my  little  garden,.!  , 

Could  hear  the  church  clock  tick  hard  by. 


MY    NATIVE    BELLS.  123 

The  chimes  upon  those  bells  at  nine, 

'  .*!,•«        .  •    ' 

And  twelve,  and  three,  play 'd  "  Auld  Lang  Syne," 
Or  tuned  of  Burns's  "  Lovely  Jean," 
Till  pleasure's  tears  woke  o'er  the  strain. 

Dear  cherish'd  scenes,  that  well  were  wound 
In  pictured  truth  my  heart  around  ; 
Long  faded  joys  live  over,  when 
I  hear  those  merry  bells  again. 

My  heart  laugh'd  then,  yet  scarce  I  dare7 
.    To  trust  my  sear'd  remembrance,  where, 
With  her  I  loved,  by  brook  or  stile, 
I  wander'd,  breathing  bliss  the  while. 

Thy  slight  form  seems  to  press  me  now,,  —:  v'; 

I  feel  thy  kiss  upon  my  brow, 

And  as  the  silver  moonbeams  rise, 

Drink  the  rich  love-streams  from  thine  eyes. 

Thou  wert  not  beautiful,  and  yet 
With  thee,  my  star  of  hoping  set ; 
Yes,  thou  wert  beautiful  to  me, 
And  I  lost  all  the  world  in  thee. 


\ 


124  MiscBtL'Aif irons  POEMS.  ' 

• ,     -  •         '    ',  .     •     •'•.-  '  Vvv 

Peal  or>r  ye  bells,  if  memory  brings  ' 
Such  sweet,  sweet  sorrows  on  your  wings ; 
Yet  bark  !  the  curfew's  envious  chime 
Tolls  out  our  home-returning  ti'me. 

Nay,  one  more  kiss  or  ere  we  part, 
Not  ori  my  lip,  but  on  my  heart ; 
I  could  not  bear  that  lip-kiss  o'er, 
'Twas  pleasure's  knell — we  met  no  more. 


I  loved  thee  from  life's  morning  start, 
Thou  wert  the  fireside  of  my  heart  .;."•; 
And  all  my  dreams  of  bliss  were  o'er, 
When  last  we  kiss'd.to  meet  no  more. 

Yet  oh,  the  fault  I  deem  not  thine,   .-,- 
..  ,'Twas  I  who  wrong'd  thy.  feeling's  shrine  ; 
Left  warm  affection's  sacred  bower/" . 
To  flit  around  from  flower  to  flower. 

They  tell  me  thou  art  still  the  same, 
If  'not  in  feelings,  yet  in  name  ; 
And  oft  I  wonder,  if  to  thee 
My  name's  as  dear  as  thine  to  me. 


'•.'••'V"  '.-,'.  • 

*:-  -,"•  4f    :£:  •.' •/.*' ' 

MY    NATIVE    BELLS.  125 

*v-.-   <  *•"•' ;';•*•. 

Those  old  eight  bells  at  service  time, 

So  duly  rang  their  warning  chime, 

Ring  ding  dong  bell,  ding  ring  (long  bell,    / 

In  sweetly  undulating  swell. 

*.,.*•'  "      •'  ^    '  ••*    .  '  ;V   *-  ' 

Now  pealing  over  hill  and  dale, 
T  heap  their  chime  on  fancy's  gale  ; 
And  kneel  beside  a  mother's  care, 
Within  the  vaulted  church,  to  prayer. 

-   r" 

Roll  on,  your  merry  roundelay 
Still  breathes  of  one  far,  far  away; 
And  tears  may  start,  as  memory  tells 
How  dear  be  loved  his  native  bells. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MISS  MARY  MITCHELL, 

DAUG-HTER  OF  T.  MITCHELL,  ESQ,  OF  DANVILLE,  KY. 
SUPPOSED'  TO  BE  THE  FEELINGS  OF  HER  FATHER. 

Gem  of  the  spirit  world,  beautiful  one, 
Angels  are  guarding  thee  where  thou  art  gone ; 
Dost  thou  not  think  of  me  now  in  thy  joy, 
Waking  a  sympathy  'tween  earth  and  sky  ? 
11* 


iJv/  .    '     '• 

126  MIS'CELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


Wilt  thou  not  plead  for  me  while  -I  ain  here  ? 
Will  not  those  smiles  of  thine  drink  the  loae  tear? 
•Shall  we  not  ineej;  in  bliss  never  to  part, 
When  time's  lasticjf  kiss  presses  my  hea,rt? " 
•»     •  '   •'&*  t  ""-V'*'       '  -      "'•  •' 

"'    V      .    •-,   ••,'•'. /V  "-.*.'.    -^-«"      •    "*•     •     '    ' 

May  I  not  know.thee  when,  dearest,  we  meet  ? 
.Will  the  same  smile  be  thine  waiting  to  greet  ? ' 
And  the  sweet  music  tones  trilling  in  love, 
Waken  a  warm  breathing  welcome  above  ? 

Will  the  same  words  be  thine,  writ  on. my  heart, 
And  the  same  hopes  be  mine,  never  to  pa.rt  ? 
Earth  has  no  longer  a  beauty  for  me  ;  , 
Come  from  the  spirit  land,  bear  me  with  thee.  - 


.  ';.    ''        •'    ". 

.  AIR— "Old  Ned." 


I  have  seen  Old.Zack  in  a  far  off  land, 

Arid  a  plain  old  maji  was.be ; 
His  t>ld  white  horse  ate  corn  from  his  hand, 

And  he  neigh'd  right  gallantly, 


•>;  .>   .- 

•  f  *  SONG.  127 

-•"V-     .  .  ,       «"      r 

,-.;  *.-,:..  ;*  •  ••  y;        :YV''  •;; •  -x  ;••'>'" 

'  .'  .    CHORUS. 

«  .    •  "  »'  •     .  •"'•  •    '      t  •    ~.  v  .  "       »y  •'  • '  •  • 

And  the  people  have  breathed  out  his*  name^, . 

•,  •     • 
While  their  hearts  to  his  bravery  bow  ; 

And  the  chief  who  has  led  us  so  nobly  to  fame. 
Shall  guide  us  and  counsel  us  now. 

How  scanty  the  comforts  his  tent  did  afford, 
'Twas  the  humblest  tent  seen  around  ; 

And  the  furniture  there  was  his  blanket  and  sword,. 
And  his  bed  was  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

'Vs.'    ".'"*    ^',\"-;:     „-—*:'  *•  •*;v-'>  J   ".V":^ 
I/have  seen  Old  Zack  when  'we  long  had  march'd, 

O'er  a  drear,  and -a  barren  "waste, 
Pass  around  his  gourd  when  our^mouths  were  parched , 
•  And  the  wearied  ones  first  must  taste..-    t 

'••  *•  '.*       y~ :  '" 

I  have  seen  the  old  chief  on  the  battle-field, 

When  the  dead  lay  in  heaps  on  the  ground  ; 
With  his  brave  old  heart  that  never  would  yield, .;.. 
^As'he  cheer'd  on  his  comrades  around..  V,,», 

-I  saw  the  old  man  when  the  fight  was  o'er", 

While  his  pale  lip  counted  the  cost ; 
And  his  eyes  were  dim  that  were  calm  before, 
'    As  he  wept  o'er  the  friends  he  had  lost. 


12.8  MISCELLANEOUS    POEM-S. 

;.  v.     • 

•I  saw  Old  Zack  in  the  chair  of  state, 

.  ••  •  '  f    '    '  i        jr  .  • 

Where  the  wheels  of  the  nation  move  ; 
With  his  old  tent  pitch'd  by  the  White  House  gate, 
AndTiis  sentry,  the  people's  love. 

And  oh  they  have  breathed  outjiis  name", 
While  their  hearts  to  his  bravery  bow  ; 

Arid  the  chief  who  has  led  us  so  nobly  to  fame, 
Shall  guide  us  and  counsel  us  now 

/*'•.;  .':::'w"_-  >-/.'•:    v**-  i-j 

»-  i   ..'  ^         :-^.»-l'l.«--_  .  •.  r 


'ON   THE   DEATH -OP   MY   FATHElt: 

'.;  »«r '•  *•  j.'  *   •  •*'     *•• 

The  last  tie  is  broken,  the  spells  of  my  youth, 

That  were  cast  "by-  affection,  and  cradled  in  truth  ; 

The  young  hopes  that  gather'd  so  close  round  my  heart, 

No  longer  their  warm,  gushing  sweetness  impart. 
•       '/;:*-'.  *•'•*,•  *$w*--'-      '*.'•"•••    v\  ••• 

•••'.v-.*^  '•  -.*  '   .    '•    ^  ...  '•  •'.".••' 

How7  little  I  dream 'd,  ere  I  broke  the  dark  seal, 

That  njy  heart  could  have  borne  the  deep  anguish  I  feel 

Oh  could'st  thou  have  bless'd  me  as  breathed  thy  last  sigh 

Or  pillow'd  thy  head  on  my  bosom  to. die! 

^'vV -V •:'•!•  >  X*^  '^  ? <"•  *^  v*-x  -  •    -  !*»*;  l'-'  •'-•.*"    '  < 
Yet  still  may  I  meet  thee,  in  moments  or  years, 

WTiere  the  suhshine  of  joy  dries  the  wearied  one's  tears, 
And  the  links  that  on  earth  have  been  sever'd  in  pain,  . 
At  the  great  forge  of  love  shall  be  welded  again. 

'"  *          ''.-'-.       '.  '."-• .  ,  V'     "S   /-  *-':'*' 

.  •      '     .'*:  ,  V,'       --;,..  >*    , 


TO 129 


TO 


Must  I  forego  each  rosy  smile,       . 

That  threw  a  sunbeam  over  sorrow  ? 
And  can  this  jieart  no  more  beguile, 

With  cherish'd  hopes,  the  future  morrow.? 

How  frail  a  tenure  earth  can  hold, 

On  what  is  deem'd  a  treasure  here, 
Soon  as  the  buds  of  life  unfold, 

Their  hues  are  sullied  by  a  tear. 

:  -        •  £ '  .  .?•-.  ':  '± 

But  oh,  the  heart  will  linger  yet, 

Around  the  ruin  Time  has  made  ; 
And  clinging  to  each  fond  regret, 

•  .  *'  ^  V*     " '  . '  *     '*£    •' 

Imagine  sunshine  in  the  shade. 

Then  fare  thee  wellj  for  who  would  claim 
E'en  thy  sweet  smiles,  not  freely  given? 
It  is  the  welcome  feeds  the  flame, 

That  makes  the  visit  breathe  of  heaven. 

f . 


•  •.    -    :  ,-:-     .  X'--- 

'  .     '..-'•  -'   ..  ' 

130  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

.  •  ..?     •'  -t  -.-  . .-  -.V   " 

•••.        .  v    •    -   "t     '<    ':"\-t  •   '-      -&•  '        '    "' 

*•      .      •'•  .   -.  '•  «       %  '*ta»''''t'         •'«         '*• 

THE   BROKEN   HEART. 

.  "-  •* .-  .••  ~.'   .  *.  >, 

%  •  ..  %  «• "  •'-    .  •"""'  * ' 

Oh  there  are  tones  from  broken  hearts, 
•  ; '  •**  *       *       -  *     ,-.  .-4  '  • 

That  none  but  broken  hearts  can  feel ; 

When  memory  to  the  mind  imparts, 
What  death  alone  can  heal. 

When  every  sympathy  is  fled, 

That  gave  the  soul  relief, 
And  round  the  heart  is  wound  instead, 

A  dark,  corroding  grief. 

*      *  '• 

'  '  I         '       •'•   •'  • 

Oh !  I  had  drain'd  and  drain'd  the  bowl, 

Care's  respite,  faint  to  give  ; 
Until  the  world  and  my  crush'd  soul, 

Refused  me  means  to  live. 

. '•  '"•'.  •'  *  ...;.-  ,.•;:•/•  .-  ••'   /?•*.••• 

K'"-  '   '••">••''•'"•  ':-- 

Yes,  I  have  been  a  stricken  deer,  . 

That  left  the  herd  to  die  ; 
A  lone  one,  mark'd  by  many  a  tear, 

A  clouded  mystery. 

Yet  had  I  once,  ere  hope  was  chill'd, 

A  warm  and  feeling  heart, 
While  not  a  flower  or  blade  of  grass, 

But  pleasure  could  impart. 


YvV.;      ;;-' :•;.,,:>;/;  'rf  •••.':•/' ':/•'  .'•"•/•• 

,  •  '•.-••  .       * ,  *      ,..'".          v  '*"'••' 

SLANDERER    OF    FEMALE    INKOCENCfc.       131 

Too  soon  for  me  the  rising  sun, 
,.         Or  setting  was  the  same  ; 

"  *      '  *  .  P  «    » "       *\      *'.**- 

I  felt  no  joy  in  what  was  done, 

And  almost  fear'd  no  shame.  J-J  '    '\ 

'"'     • '   < 

•V';  ^  '.''•-  .  ''      '  ••"•--•-  : 

'        fr  '        •  '  *      >  •          •*•  ^ 

Yet  when  the  world  e'er  spoke  unkind, 

Ot  sneer'd  at  my  distress, 
It  came  like  midnight  o'er  my  mind, 

The  shroud  of  bitterness. 


And  mv  lone  heart  beheld-no  rav, 

\ 
To  beacon  me  to  rest:_ 

Like  ill-nursed  flowers  I  pined  away,  J 

Unfriended  and  unblest. 
•  V  '  •''-?-;:  ,;?!*•>  '*.  V^  -/  '•  :' 


THE  SLANDERER  OF  FEMALE  INNOCENCE. 

May  slander'd  innocence,  insulted  rise, 
Pleading  her  cause  through  blushes  in  the  skies, 
And  may  the  picture  baseness  has  portray'd, 
Hang  round  its  author's  life  like  filth  decay 'd. 
Oh  base-born  thought,  to  crimson  o'er  with  shame 
The  fair,  smooth  brow,  where  virtue  plants  her  name  ; 
From  the  lewd  brothel  its  foul  nuisance  glean, 
To  darken  purity  with  words  obscene. . 


132  .  '*  '  !MISCEL£ANE.O¥-S 


Shall  sweet  simplicity  and  guileless  youth, 

,Be  crwsh'd,  and  stung,  and  trampled  in  its  truth  ? 

Or  smiling  -beauty  like  a  rose-bud  pale, 

Shed  its  sweet  perfume  on  a  tainted  gale  ? 
.  Oh  no,  may  envy,  jealousy,  and  strife,^ 

Sap  the  last  comfort  from  the  sland'rer's  life-;  . 

M^y  his  deaxth-hours  look  v&inly  for  the  -care,. 

That  only  woipan*s  angel  help  can  share. 

Oh  may  his  hearth  be  desolate  and  drear,  .. 

Without  ,a  smile  to  chase  compunction's  tear  ; 
'May  degradation  follow  -in-  his  train, 

Crushing  the  sparks  of  hope,  and  lighting  pain  ; 

Vituperation,  cloven-tongued  and  loud, 

Embodied,  hideous,  round  his  foul  haunts  crowd  : 

May  no  warm  sympathies  -of  tender  ties, 

Ere  cross  the  threshold  of  his  earthly1  joys. 

May  disappointment,  deep  remorse;,  ami  shame, 

Hang,  like  a  viper  round  his  withering  name. 

May  he  dre  loathed,  'and  ere  his  botaes  be  .rotten,. 

Be  his  najrae  perish'd'and  his  grave  forgotten  ; 

Or  if  remember'd,  may  eternal  shame' 

Fling  scorn  and  hisses  o'er  his  blighted  fame. 


THE     PAST. 


133 


THE   PAST. 

The  past,  the  past,  what  lingering  sweets 
Are  garner'd  in  thy  lone  retreats ; 
What  joys  that  like  the  rainbow  threw 
A  vapor  o'er  its  fading  hue. 

The  past,  like  some  familiar  strain, 

- 
That  cheer'd  us  in  our  hours  of  pain, 

Comes  back,  the  serenade  of  care, 
And  finds  the  same  lone  anguish  there. 

The  past,  like  portraits  to  our  view, 
Brings  one  by  one  the  loved  we  kne*w, 
."  %  •'•  And  reckless  of  the  change  of  scenes, 
Forgets  Jhat  anguish  intervenes. 

The  look,  the  smile,  the  lighted  eye, 
The  vow,  the  tear,  the  soften'd  sigh, 
The  breath  of  tremulous  emotion,  i  • 

Whisp'ring  again  the  heart's  devotion. 
.  v:  '    *' 
V   ' 

The  past  flits  back,  but  does  it  bring 

That  freshness  on  its  faded  wing  ? 

The  sweet  reality  that  stole 

• 

So  softly  o'er  the  virgin  soul  ? 
12 


"•'v^-   <•  -J  ••'•'"•  -:'V:*  .*'£';^V:  A>*':  '  '•' '•''•*i*- 
134  "MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Ah  no,  the  seeming  joys  of  earth, 
Are  but  like  meteors  in  their  birth, 
And  they  who  o'er  the  past  would  rise,:ty.< 
Must  seek  their  future  in  the  skies. 


C';  TO'.  ALPHA*. 

^:;>    v  ^;-->-.^!  ;,:'•••  *>.o-A:  V-V- 

Could  I  portray  the  winning  grace, 
--'That  plays  in  softness  o'er  thy  face  ; 

Or  catch,  tlie  sunny  beams  that  fly    •/ 

In  beauty  from  thy  kindling  «ye  ; 
•   Or  paint  the  silken  brows  of  jet  /J# '.' 

That  ojer  those  beaming  eyes  are  set ; 
'  JL'^'t       *  •'    A  »-,'"'      "•*•  '••!     •        •   • .     •  *  »  c 
Or  mark  the  long  dark  fringes,  lashing 

The  heaven  of  soul  that  there  is  flashing ; 
The  peircill'd  truth  would  glow  with  strife, 
'  And  heave,  and  breathe,  and  burst  to  life. 


THE  REPLY,  BA  ALPHA. 


There  was  a  time  when  sunny  beams, 
Play'd  o'er  my  face  in  joyous  gladness  ; 

'  _—Jtffr     -  i     *  *         •        -*  'J^T   *^*"  *     *  A    »  •"-        ,    •       .*,    *-^*".  •*     '  • 

When  all  my  buoyant,  happy  dreams, 
Were  those  of  pleasure,  not  of  sadness  ; 

*  Mrs.  Vandike,  late  widow  of  Rev.  Mr.  Vandyke,  and  daughter 
of  Bishop  Soule,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 


$$&££     ;  ,   '*. 

THE     REPLY.  135 

.•    •     "  ,' 

But  now  those  blissful  dreams  have  fled,   . 
The',  bright  and  fair,  oh  they  were  fleeting, 

In  sorrow's  mazes  now  I  tread, 

i.  *    , 

And  fiercely  on  my  aching  head, 
Thie  pelting  storm  is  beating. 

'.«'"'    v'  /'••'"'  '  '*+'.'•'*>'.?   v 

My  lyre  now  breathes  a  mournful  lay, 

•   OF  happy  hours  long  since  departed, 

•  And  I,  once  gladsome,  wild  and  gay, 
Dancing  in  pleasure's  sunny  ray, 

Am  sad,  and  broken-hearted. 
My  eye,  lost  to  its  lustred  hue, 

Is  dimm'd  with  drops  of  bitter  fedingv 
And  like  the  wild  flower  drench'd  with  dew, 

I  love  concealing. 

I  love  to  sit  and  muse  alone, 
•V.And  weep  when  none  can  mark  my  feeling  ; 
Such  sacred  hours  are  all  my  own, 

When  from  the  heartless  world  I'm  stealing; 

-  'Tis  then  I  bring  from  memory's  land, 

Gems,  in  its  secret  casket  cherish'd, 
Like  fragments  from  the  wreck  of  joys, 
That  on  life's  troubled  sea  have  perish'd. 


y"*i,;.,-   ... 

:  A  ;•.*•••.' 


136  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  CONSOLATION.: 

.•;»_,'>;';••.-     ^-/vi      Y"  '"*':,"     ..:'*"'•'• 
When  love's  young  morning's  kindly  gleams,  '• 

Steal  o'er  the  soul  in  sorrow's  hours  ;  , 
'Tis  sweet  to  feel  her  kindling  beams 

'      '    \-t  -V  •!••..'.      .'.       •".'  ', 

Wake  into  life  affection's  flowers. 

•  ;••-/•.;.:;•  ..v 

The  heart  were  «old  and  sterile  too, 

That  answer'd  not  the  gentle  call  ;   • 
As  tenderest  plants  feel  most  the  dew, 

That  o'er  their  drooping  beauties  fall.'  \. 

V         i      '  •  "i  -  *  v .   •  .  • 

Yet  oh,  be'caus~e  one  flower  has  breatlied 
>  '    '        ' ' •'       •»'.  .  *  **»*  *  ' 

Its'  last,  sad  sweet, o^er  nature's  wild  ; 

Say,  tcan  no  other  bud  be  wreathe.d,i.  - 
To  please  the  wayward,  weeping  child. 

.'    .  .    »    \-*'i"  >    V*-        ./"»•'..•!       ••     •      .  *'.      »'*'".•'     :.. 

•      •  •     •     .'•*%* 

'•'".H^  .  '      '•  '~  '•  •'';•••'  »  f 
There's  scarce  a  gem  that  Flora  wears, 

But  withers  'neath  the  winter's  breath  ; 
Yet  when  spring's  smile  again  appears, 
In  beauty  triumphs  over  death. 


.  .-  -. 

BEAUTY'S  SMILE  AND  BEAUTY'S  TEAR.     137 


lovelier  far  their  new-robed  forms,  . 
Since  \ve  have  wept  their  stay  so  long  j- 
They  come  in  sunshine  through  the  storms, 
That  bear  our  destinies  along. 


.•&*.  .^     •», 

BEAUTY'S  SMILE  AND  BEAUTY'S  TEAR. 

The  light  that  beams  in  beauty's  eye, 

Shines  from  the  fires  that  warm  the  soul ; 
The  tears  that  on  its  fringes  lie, 

Are  but  the  gems  that  pity  stole. 
;•  -  •  "*'     »". 

*'  •»•!••     •  *  •       •  ••  -'*  • 

"  And  oh  when  sorrow  lingers  near, 

And  hope  has  quench'd  her  last  kind  ray  ; 
Then  beauty's  smile,  and  beauty's  tear, 
Will  chase  the  weary  gloom  away. 

-      '•   '"    .'?  ;        *  "•*  ViiV   '   *'.'.    '  -"•'.'      V     ':' 

As  in  the  rainbow,  sweetly  blend 

The  sunshine  and  the  showers  in  strife  : 

•So  when  o'er  hearts  dark  sorrows  bend,      t  «>•"' 
Love's  sunbeams  drink  the  tears  of  life!  •    _•. 


''•"'  ;'....  •  •.>,'••"•'•'•   "„.  >1  .* 

138  ...  "  MISCELLANEOUS    POEM^. 


LINES 

.?  ;.-          -v'-'  '•  '  -.  -i     '  "iv?  —  -'U'^  v<  .,  •  'i-,  ;<  ."'*.  '.  ' 

x  ON    THE    DEATH    OF  ^CR9.    MARf   YOJJNG,    MOTHER.  OF    DR.   J.    C.    YOITNC, 

On  hearing  that  almost  her  last  words  were  "  All's  well."  How 
delighting  to  sorrowed  friends  were  Such  passwords  on  the  frontiers 
of  eternity  ;  angels  jio  doubt  were  sentinels,  and  echoed  the  gladsome 
tidings  through  the"  golden  portals,  into  the  camp  of  heaven.  - 

•  •'':   •  '"  .*'.*•     '•  v  •:'•.•.;.  ';  '      '••••  •  »' 

'Oh  why  should  w^  grieve  o'er  the  loved  one  that's  fled, 

•Since  angels  have  botne  her  above  ?• 
It  is  but  the  dust  we  have  laid  with'rtie  dead, 
Her  spirit  is  breathing  in  Jo,ve:  T."-1 

-'-'    ••  v      '••"    \"'/    .-  •'.-•«•::.  'f'.'"i  <"/..' 

When  all  earthly  comforts  were  fading  away-,   . 

And  death  mantled  darkly  her  breast  ; 
Then  Bethlehem's  _s*ar,  like  the  beaming  of  day, 

Disclosed  the  sweet  haven  of  rest. 


.  •  -  . 

The  sweet  soothing  spirit  of  realised  lore,' 

Breathed  o'er  immortality's  birth  ; 
And  the  soul,  ere  it  spread  its  glad  pinions  above, 

Had  woke  to  its  triumph  o'er  earth. 


..      * 
"•?'  •«  ••-*•  . 


RELIGION.  139 

'       *  V  "  '•  ,.  .  .''        *?r-.* 

No  doubting,  no  fearing,  no  sorrow  or  care — 

She  smiled  as  the  last  curtain  fell ;  ;•• .. 
Her  Saviour,  in  whom  she  had  trusted,  was  there, 

And  sweetly  she  whisper'd  "All's  well." 

'  •     '-'    •   ."•    v  '    rf   vl"   "»JT' *^ '••••"*•*  *j- 

'.  •*-'•  '  \L  •  '<'->tV*"*- 

The  beautiful  password  was  echoed  above', 

And  saints  caught  the  sound  as  it  fell; 

While  the  angels  of  mercy  recorded  in  love, 

On  the  pages  of  Heaven,  "All's  well." 


HpW  bright  are  the  smiles  that  religion  bestows, 
Like  the  beams  of  the  morning  in  beauty  it  glows  ; 
.'Tis  the  sunshine  of  youth,  and  the  comfort  of  age, 
And  its  letters  are  gold  upon  memory's  page. 

'Tis  a  streamlet  still  flowing  to  rivers  of  joy, 
Thro'  vales  that  are  glowing  beneath  a  warm  sky ; 
'Tis  a  palace  of  beauty,  an  Eden  of  sweets, 
With  perennial  flowers  in  its  blushing  retreats. 


140  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS.    • 

There  is  love  in  its  features,  and  joy  in  its  heart,  /  # 

And  its  breathings  a  soul-healing  virtue  impart  ; 
The  strength  of  persuasion,  the  sweetness  of  song, 
In  harmony  blend  on  its  eloquent  tongue. 


,  . 

rainbow  of  hope  over-arching  the  world, 

'Tis  the  banner  of  freedom  in  beauty  unfurl'd  ; 
'   Tis  the  light  of  the  truth,  and  its  rays  will  impart   v 
A  halo  of  holiness  over  the  heart. 

'•  •    """•        '      •  ••.":'«'••  "j  '  *  *'    .  . 

>'   .   '•••      •  ''  .."•''.*;      *'•-'.  *"*'•••  -i1'  *.•    •  ";    .  >-*'"'  \.   •  '•'• 

_'Tis"the  whisper  of  peace  to  tjie  wanderer's  breast 

When  error  shrouds  darkly  the  couch  of  his  rest  j 
It  wipes  off  the  tear  from  the  penitent's  ey«,  . 

And  leads  him  to  fountains  that  trickle  with  joy. 

'  •'    *.v3t%    *     •   f  *'•»'••"•  *.f»  *  •  **'        •     »,    •    1 

'Tis  the  soldier's  last  hope  \vhen  the  battle  is  o'er, 
And  his  death-  wound  has  crimson'd  the  earth  with  gore  ; 
'Tis  the  soul-speaking  truth  that  gives  light  to  his  eye, 
Ere  the  curtains  of  death  are  closed  round  him  to  die. 

a*i'       "-''  jS  :-'  ••*.  *:*v  -  .-.-  ' 

'Tis  the  beacon  that  points  to  the  haven  of  rest,  •  4  •' 
'Tis  the  mariner's  chart  to  the  home  of  the  blest  ;     £!&, 
4Tis  the  barque  that  will  bear  us  o'er  life's  troubled  sea, 
And  the  pilot  to  guide  us,  dear  Saviour,  to  thee. 


.  :. 

k*  ?'.•"•       '  r't'  •'    ".'•/'     •*        '*•'   '  *'•;*•'".'* 

•x  '        •*'•'••'•.  »*:  *«A  .-  •- •  ,'''**•  •''.-•-"  * 

«-.--.   T'-f-    -;  '**•  •'    -:  £••'•'  ".      ••"."•     -    -. 

LINES.  141 


LINES   ADDRESSED   TO   W.   F.   M.yl 

;-.?/.    •'':•- 

ON    HIS    PRESENTING    A    ROSB-BUD    TO    THE    AUTHOR,    MISS  .4;    S.  -C.-  !•.'     ' 

'  ."  •      •  .'  •  '   •  ':    I 

I  prize  a  little  fragrant  flower, 

The  gift  of  one  who  loves  me  well  ; 

f"        •  r^  '*:'*•••%-•  *  -    * 

It  cheers  me  in  a  sorrow 'd  hour, 

And  weaves  around  my  heart  a  spell. 

•••'«•"'.''-,"  '      • 

"'-t.'  *  '.**  •  .""*'•*.    »*.*•* 

It  brings  to  mind  the  happy  days, 

When  youth,  and  hope  were  wreath'd  with  flowers, 
When  memory's  fair,  enchanted  maze, 

Made  fairy-like  those  dreams  of  ours. 

',  J4    ••»"••  '         ^*-     '  '.   '  *,  -/.'"•  f     » 

^  '%.'*''•.      -t1  "*¥#4  *'"  •^.*.  ^'"- 

How  sweet  from  out  the  gloomy  past,;  *.«'  •'-..  >/  ,V' 
(fc    *  •    *  *    «   .  * '  *    -^  .* 

Comes  tremblingly  our  by-gone  dreams, 

..*•   And  o'er  our  way- worn  spirits  cast 

Their  strangely  sad,  but  vivid  beams. 

'*•'•••**'          -'-^ '- .:.  _    *     *',*.'..'••••**''•'.'•''•.      :     \.  '.V  :'''-••    ". 

Oh  may  this  cherish'd  token  bring, 

When  summer's  sunny  hours  have  fled, 
Some  latent  thought  on  memory's  wing, 
.  O'.er  faded  years  that  long  have  sped. 


/.''MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


For  memory  still  in  wintry  days, ' 

||   '  "''A,''        j°   '  "  '*"•     ''    *        '  '•"     ••    ' 

Speeds  back  with  footsteps  bathed  in  tears, 


f-- ,v;. v.  f^vv'i^'i-v^j^i^- l  -  •;•••' - 
•   Jv^'  V,    'Jo  »ss  »:$./;,•  •*.-.>  ::.''Y 
r-;-v '-...';  -,"•'    'y -:  ;V'"'V"^  ' 

»••     Ob -give  back  the  thoughts  of -the  long  faded  past, 

When  my  heart  becomes  sad  and  lone  ; 
.For  they  cheer  like  the  rays  over  deep  shadows  cast, 
Oi"  the  joys  that  have  long  since  flown. '  '-***" 

Earth's  fairy-like  pleasures,  that  pallingly  stay, 

Can  never  dry  up  the  heart's  tears  ; 
And  I,  who  have  cast  all  its  treasures  away, 
wake  the  lone  spectre  of  years.*  ^.«; 


#: :    .•"•.;    •••»-   ,v- ••;">•:•     .  :'•• 

The  sweetest  .perfume  over  life's  wither'd  hours, 

By  long  cherish'd  sorrows  refined, 
Is  breathed  from  the  rose-leaves  of  time's  faded  flowers, 
•  .In  the  wintery  garden  of  mind. 

...-'•• -XV',  "*A'         V/^ 

-•  -•      •,          «•  .» '      '"»«-  • »  '..'*'.""*  •: •         v..         '"'•.•  •'  '*','.     f.' 

' " 


. 


. 

DEATH    OF     MAJOR    P.    N.    BARBOUR.         143 


Then  give  back  the  thoughts  of  the  long  faded  past, 

When  my  heart  becomes  sad  and  lone  ; 
'  For  they  come  like  the  rays  over  deep  shadows  east, 
Or  the  joys  that  have  long  since 


:•  V  •  •":',••>'. 
ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MAJOR  P.  N.  BARBOUR, 

OF  THE  THIRD  UNITED  STATES  INFANTRY,   WHO  WAS  KILLED  WHILE 
'  BRAVELY  LIGHTING  AT  THE  BATTLE  OF  MONTEHEY. 
'.       *'":.*.''  .  •  .       1 1 

We  laid  our  loved  Barbour  to  sleep  in  his  grave, 

Where  forest  trees  waved  o'er  his  head  ; 
Where  the  mocking-bird  sings  the  sad  dirge  of  the  brave, 
And  wild-flowers  bloom  on  his  bed. 

<•     i     •  "  .    .<».'*'  •'„  "*  "  *   *..- 

r'          •     .    *          -  •  i        >     ?  .   .          '..*  •  •-.  «v  V  "'  .,•  ^  %v        '  '     •'"•      '    ' 

No  more  to  be  roused  by  the  shrill  reveille, 
.'  Or  march  where  the  bombs  rend  the  air ; 
His  tent  has  been  pitch'd  in  the  land  of  the  free, 
And  angels  are  sentinels  there. 


On  the  morn  of  the  battle  he  linger'd  to  start, 
In  thought  of  the  loved  one  behind  ; 

Then  kissing  the  picture  that  hung  near  his  heart, 
It  smiled  off  the  gloom  from  his  mind. 


4     "••    '-v.. .-;-';" •£•••." -iC  .\./' 

144         /^'.MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

His  comrades  may  whisper  his  name  with  3' tear, 
Or  peal  a  last  shot  o'er  his  breast,  ' -^  " 

Or  warble  the  songs  that  he  once  loved  to  hearr  •• 
But  they  cannot  awaken  his  rest.  - 


He 'died  in  the  battle, 'with  glory  around,  • 
Where  honor  had  crimson'd  his  blade,   • 
As  the  foe  stood  aghast  at  his  prowess,  spell-bound, 

Then  shrunk  from  the  slaughter  he  made. 

:  '•    \ ,"   '-.*-'          ->  •      •    .-''     v*  "  *•"''»  '     '     '• 

His  loved  one,  away  o'er  the  wide  spreading  main, 

May  hope  for  his  presence  no  more': 
He  never  can  gladden  her  lone  heart  again, 

For  h,e  sleeps,  and  his  marching  is  o'er. 

••^f'-'rV^^^^&^f'tf'^?' 

Yet  oh  when-the  last  muster-roll  shall  unfold,.-  ,  ''-/'/.' 

And  millions  the  ranks  shall  sustain, 
When  the  arch-angel  wakes  the  last  trumpet  of  gold, 

-Oh  then  he  will  march  us  again. 


THE    BOWL.        ,  145 

.'  '••»"•      >         •'        .  •''.     .   -*i-^.  ".'<:•!  ••          '.'*  ••*      '-•..  •'.     -jf 

*    5>  •  *  -      * 

THE  BOWL. 

AIR — "The  rose  that  all  are  praising." 

The  bowl  that  blushes  brightest,  , , 

Is  not  the  bowl  for  me ; 
For  fancy's  wing  is  lightest, 

With  nectar  pure  and  free  ; 
Give  me  the  bowl  that  cooling  dips, 
In  rock-bound  spring  its  smiling  lips, 

With  silver  bubbles  shining ; 
Oh,  that's  the  bowl  for  me  ;  oh,  that's  the  bowl  for  me. 

•        •'•  .*  ••  -'  •  •'  .'0- 

.-••"•  *^  •       ' .  v  •''••*« 

The  streamlet  near  the  mountain, 

Alpng  its  pebbly  bed, 
From  out  the  mossy  fountain, 

That  gurgles  at  its  head, 
Here  let  me  lave  my  fever'd  lip, 
And  like  the  gods,  nectarious  sip, 

The  dear  delight  recounting; 
Oh,  that's  the  joy  for  me  ;  oh,  that's  the  joy  for  me. 

When  rosy  wine  had  bound  me, 
And  joy  had  left  my  heart  ; 
13 


146  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

When  anguish  frown'd  around  me, 

A  blot  on  memory's  chart ; 
l*i_'  .f      Then  came  from  out  the  springs  of  life 
The  pledge  to  gild  the  passing  strife, 
.    And  oh,  its  mercy  found  me, 
And  heal'd  my  broken  heart,  and  heal'd  my  broken  heai 

-v.  •   V.      V 

\9    *.  »»  ,    '.  '.    .    «  *    '*.  •-.' 


LINES  FOR  AN  ALBUM. 

How  beautiful,  its  leaves  diclose, 

A  lily  here,  and  there  a  rose  ; 

With  many  a  page  of ,  virgin  white, 

Where  virtuous  minds  their  thoughts  may  write. 


And  oh  may  no  rude  word  or  jest 
Ere  .soil  the  snow  upon  'ifs  breast ;    • 
Like  cherish'd  rose-leaves  bathed  in  tears, 
May  it  perfume  thy  future  years. 


^;';v;-'';v::-.;  •       '^••V-;,"-Ci 

*  *  »    v         *  r  T& '.  * 

TO    CHARLOTTE.  147 


TO  CHARLOTTE. 

•-'>:".  A-'-* 

. ,   •          •  '*  • «  '*.•    . » -.% ' 

Take  back  the  lute,  its  broken  strings.  ' 
No  more  will  waken  passion's  strain  : 

Its  music  over  memory  flings 
But  wild,  and  wild'ring  notes  of  pain. 

-  *  :'.  u-:          .  : .  W:r 

Take  back  the  lute,  my  broken  heart 

Could  never  bear  its  tones  again  ; 
One  \vakening  touch  would  grief  impart/'- 

And  sear  my  brow  with  burning  pain. 

.'">-•  —  •  v-V 

Take  back  the  lute,  no  more  I'll  breathe 
The  name  that  once  my  soul  could  thrill ; 

_  •/ 

For  oh,  around  it  flowers  would  wreathe 
Their  drooping,  fading  beauties  still. 


'Fake  back  the  lute,  when  bygone  years 

Shall  flash  upon  thy  fever'd  brow, 
May  never  sorrow  waken  tears, 
Nor  anguish  such  as  pains  me  now. 

-VjY'.;;':;'    - 


».'••'    I.," 
148  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


•  •-. 

Take  back  the  lute,  the  world  will  cling 

Like  serpents  round  thy  guileless  heart, 
And  thou  wilt  feel  how  deep  the  sting  . 
Its  interested  smiles  impart. 

•*O  >/'i;;iv"  T.  ".  -/,.' 

Take  back  the  lute,  a  warm  farewell 

-/-.•'          •  •.•'>;.  •*-. 

Is  breathing  o'er  its  chords  for  theerj: 

Yet  should  thy  heart  with  feeling  swell, 
,  ,  4tf  -  •  *•'  '       »  '•  *'    '         " 

in  tenderness  remember  me. 


ACROSTIC  TO  KATE. 

May  thy  young  aspirations  buoyant  spring, 
In  virtuous  triumph  on  hope's  downy  wing ; 
Soft  as  the  rose-leaves,  may  thy  falling  hours 
Successive  drop  amid  life's  sweetest  flowers  ; 
Kind  hearts  and  eyes  in  beams  of  tenderest  care, 
Shield  thee  from  clouds  that  darken  'neath  despair ; 
Truth  set  her  richest  jewels  round  thy  heart, 
O'erglorying  thee  beyond  the  gems  of  art, 
Until,  the  bloom  of  earth's  probation  o'er,    / 
Time  gifts'  thy  spirit  to  more  genial  shore. 

'•*'?:•'•  •••'.».  ••.'-< 


c  •• 


TO    MOLLY    W.  . 


TO   MOLLY   W 


There  is  a  charm  in  beauty's  eye, 

Of  i  deeply  melting  blue  ; 
Its  light  is  like  a  summer  sky, 

With  sunshine  beaming  through. 

It  kindles  joy,  unlike  the  beams 

The  dark-eyed  maiden  throws,  .       .',  V 

In  fiery  sparks  of  wild'ring  gleams, 
That  steal  the  heart's  repose. 


Give  me  the  laughing  eye  of  blue, 
The  warm  and  tender  soulr 

The  bounding  spirit  fondly  true, 
.v  •   ' ..  •  *• 

That  lives  in  love's  control. 


Then  take  the  midnight  eyes  away/"*"  , 

I  would  not  feel  their  powerj 
For  oh  I  fear  their  witching  ray, 

Would  blight  each  future  hour. 

. 


13* 


150  'MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

-.*-v •  ••••>  -*.-••  •* '"  ••  ."'A -    .•»••'»•-., 

SONG.  ' 

AIR — "  The  voice  «f  her  I  Ibve." 

.*      -•'•.   •'.-'-.      '.'.''  •'        •    v.    .    V.'  "        *,.     ..'-I1     .  * 

How  sweet  the  twilight  of  the  mind, 

'*«.  ;-      The  holy  calm  of  thought, 

•  •     •  •    •' 

When  bliss  the  fetters  can  unbindj 

That  early  care  has  wrought.   •".  ' 
When 'even  hope  has  smoothed  her  wings, 

And  fancy  seeks  reposex 
And  infant  recollection  brings, 

A  balm  for  future  woes. 


The  smiling  wife's  kind  watchful  eye, 
The  lisping  infant's  prayer, 

The  ready  couch  inviting  by, 
For  weariness  to  share  ; 

The  sweetness  of  repose  that  steals, 

Like  moonbeams,  o'er  the  mind, 

••  "  «jfc«  '  '•          •  •''•'. 

And  many  a  fairy  dream  reveals, 

^.»%  That  leaves  no  sting  behind. 


•  >•:'. •••<••  *&j   .,:••  v.r 

SONG.  151 

•  , 

•t  '  '  •  |    '  •*.'•••;'(,'" 

SONG.  >,"• 

TO   M-ISS   M.    S.    C.    L    .    .    . 

AIR — "Kind,  kind  and  gentle's  she." 

' ;    '•  > '  • 

Smile  thy  sweet  smile  on  me, 

-          •>•:'  •'".*' 
Fro\vn  not,  my  Mary  ; 

This  world  would  dark  and  dreary  be, 

Without  a  smile  from  Mary. 
The  sparkling  pearls  of  morning's  dew, 
The  lily's  light,  the  rose's  hue, 
The  summer  skies  of  heavenly  blue, 
Are  not  more  bright  than  Mary. 
Smile,  &c. 

The  dewy  tears  that  pity  knows, 
"/• '  vFor  hearts  deep  crush'd  by  withering  woes, 
In  life's  dark  tides,  its  ebbs  and  flows, 
Are  sweetly  shed  by  Mary. 

Smile,  &c. 

'  -    4.-          '  », 

'         *  •&'' 

The  holy  twilight  of  her  mind, 

"Is  soft  as  love,  as  heaven  refined, 
A  gem  of  worth  in  truth  enshrined,    . 
For  earth  too  pure  is  Mary. 
Smile,  &c. 


152  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Oh  could  I  find  on  life?s  wide  sea, 
Some  sunny  isle  made  bright  by  thee ; 
I'd  gladly  to  its  haven  flee,  •• 
And  thou  shouldst  be  my  Mary. 
Smile,  &c. 

* 


ACROSTIC  TO  S.  A.  S. 

. 

•  •    '  ,^v;-\v/  '•••.*..•  '.^•>K-  / 


••  •       - 

Sweet  be  the  flowers  that  bloom  along  thy  wa 

And  pleasure-wing'd  the  hours  that  o'er  thee  fly, 
Love  \varm  thy  bosom  with  its  purest  ray,  • 

Like  angel  yearnings  in  a  .world  of  joy. 
Young  Hope,  white-finger'd,  point  beyond  all  care, 

Among  the  bright  imaginings  of  bliss, 
Nurst  by  the  maiden  purity  of  prayer, 

Not  chill M  by  frost-work  of  a  world  like  this. 
Each  wayward  cloud  that  flits  across  thy  sky, 

Stretch  a  broad  rainbow  o'er  its  pearly  showers, 
.  i  -..«'*.  J^'  w  •   ' 

In  fcharm  around  thee,  may  young  cherubs  fly, 

Making  sweet  coolnesg  o'er  thy  unfledged  hours  ; 
Kissing  the  perfume  from  the  opening  rose,  . 
In  Love's  lone  glen,  where  violets  repose  ; 
Nursing  the  virtues  taught  from  nature's  page, 
Smiling, o'er  youth,  and  cheering  hoary  age. 


WAR    AND    HUMANITY.  153 

i  «'•*'•  •  . 

A  LEAF  FROM  MY  JOURNAL. 

WRITTEN  BENEATH  THE   WALLS   OF  THE  BLACK    FORT,  MONTEREY. 

Nov.  7th.  1847.  Keceived  to-day  a  letter  from  my  wife,  the  con 
tents  of  which  have  indeed  brought  a  deep  gloom  over  my  heart. 
Oh,  what  dark  feelings  come  over  me,  when  I  think  of  the  wreck  of 
my  loved  home  ;  the  beautiful  home,  that  I  had  hoped  would  have 
proved  an  asylum  for  'age  or  infirmity.  And  have  they  sold  my 
books  ?  those  old  acquaintances,  with  whom  for  years  I  have  held 
such  sweet  converse.  And  is  it  thus  that  the  golden  links  of  a  care 
worn  and  fading  existence,  are  one  by  one  stricken  off  from  the  rusted 
chain  of  time,  while  the  iron  fetters  of  misery  are  welded  and  riveted 
within  the  shattered  space.  Should  I  ever  return  to  Danville,  can 
I  pass  the  spot  endeared  to  me  by  associations  of  so  much  pleasure 
and  hope,  knowing  that  a  cold  world  has  riven  it  from  me  in  merci 
less  impatience  ?  perhaps  *  *  * 

I  feel  I  have  little  to  live  for  now,  I  have  no  children  to  call  me 
father,  and  waken  up  incentives  to  energy  of  action.  There  is  a 
deadness  in  my  career,  that  even  friendship  fails  to  enliven  ;  I  have 
grown  prematurely  old,  and  my  only  prayer  is,  that  in  the  battle,  I 
may  fight  like  a  soldier  and  die  like  a  man. 

••    •      . 


WAR  AND  HUMANITY. 


The  poor  wearied  soldier  return'd  to  his  cot, 

His  feet  were  all  blister'd  and  sore  ; 
His  dogs  gave  the  welcome  that  friends  had  forgot, 

As  they  met  him  in  rags  at  his  door. 


.  „..    ...    . 

»  •       k  .  -    "•  •    \  *?    i  /      .••.--.        ; 
•.•'•  .•''     Vi'  '  -;  -*t\     -,•  r. 

154  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

'       ' 


But  spoilers  had  cross'd  o'er  his  threshold  of  joy, 
While  its  owner  was  over  the  sea,'    !• 

Defending  the  branches  that  none  may  destroy, 
Of  our  own  cherish'd  liberty  tree. 

>'•    •  '  **  4  ^-'V"1 

r  *IL  •  .••  '  ?<*?  •*«• 

•'•^?     V  '*.\'   '.**'•••<     ^-V      -       ••..'.'    ..' 

His  wife  wept  a  welcome,  for  sorrow  was  there,    . 

And  pointed.  around  the  bare  walls; 
)&  '  As  the  old  soldier  turn'd  him  to  seek  his  arm-chair, 
Here  comrades,,  the  tear  —  curtain  falls. 

*•    !    '•  '       '      .  'V..        •'    v"\    v  •     .»    ,•.•">.;.       »  »'.     ^    •    , 

^  .  ,    •    •    •  '*    i  '«  •  .  /  "  : 

'•••.'.  "••     -'i^'-'lt  ••'*    '  •'*"    i:t  v*-*    v.  •  •       .**••'  '• 
The  corner  so  cozy  close  by  the  fire-side, 

Was  now  all  deserted  and  bare.;. 

'-'i  ,  j    :*i  '•'-'»••*.-  "        .'•--.  '-'r'.1' 

And  the  bureau  and  desk,  with  his  inkstand  beside, 
And  his  old  friend  the  clock  was  not  there. 


And  his  time-honor'd  books  that  had  made  his  heart  proud, 

With  the  relics  of  forty  long  years  ; 
Had  been  sold  'neath  the  gaze  of  the  pitiless  .crowd, 

And  scatter'd  'mid  tauntings  and  jeers. 

The  minstrel  no  more  tuned  his  wild  harp  again, 
For  his  best  cherish'd  hopes  were  destroy'd  ; 

The  last  link  was  sever'd  in  life's  broken  chain, 
_And  the  future  to  him  was  a  void. 


'-4  i. 

F-.s -   •  .»<  •'    ' 


TO  .  .  .  .,,  .  155 

/       ,        '     •{->.;,      ;• 

'    ••  •"?.>'* 

• '  ;*  -,'    ".  '£.- 

TO  . 


I  have  striven  to  bid  thee  farewell, 

When  my  heart  has  been  bursting  with  grief; 
When  the  clouds  of  despair  hung  around  like  a  sped, 

And  no  tear  came  to  whisper  relief. 


Oh,  I  bitterly  thought  of  the  pastr  -'  '  *' 
Lest  thine  innocent  heart  should  be  sad ; 

And  I  fancied  our  bliss  was  too  fervent  to  last, 
And  the  feeling  is  driving  me  mad. 

Yet  still  I  could  bear  grief  alone, 

Could  I  know  thou  wert  happy  the  while, 

With  a  smile  when  the  peace-dove  of  pleasure  had  flown, 
And  thy  bliss  would  my  sorrows  beguile. 

Still  Fate  cannot  doom  us  to  part, 

My  love  will  be  ever  with  thee  ; 
And  oh,  in  the  warmest  recess  of  thine  heart, 

Thou'lt  aye  keep  a  corner  for  me. 


.  . 

156  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


SORROWING   STANZAS. 

Oh  'tis  as  bright  a  day  as  ever  smiled  on  earth, 

And  airs  as  sweet  around  it  play, 
As  at  creation's  birth. 

And  every  flower  and  dewy  gem, 

Is  wreathed  around  its  diadem. 

'«  *  *^'       •  *  ••        *.  ~*      *  •  ' 
•"  *  '  i 

And  all  enjoy  the  scene  save  one  poor  wilder'd  heart, 

That  deeply  feels  what  it  has  been, 
What  novy  its  griefs  impart  ; 
.  '»       The  dove,  while  sorrowing  o'er  its  mate, 

Can  only  know  so  dark  a  fate. 

,"•  •***."*    .   *"  .'  '   -  *%.. 

*    •  •    .  •  ;        ;-.«•.  r  -  •••        .     < 

Yet  there  is  rest  on  'high,  beneath  an  angel's  love, 

"Where  all  is  beauty,  grace,  and  joy, 
And  bliss  its  smiles  will  prove, 
Arpunxl  the  gold  pavilions  there, 
Where  spirits  breathe  ambrosial  air. 

That  rest  is  not  for  me,  but  darkness,  pain  and  gloom, 
Shroud  my  sad  fate  with  misery, 

'4*      .  ^       .   -  1;  V    V-  '  -  »    '    ,        X 

And  point  me  to  the  tomb  ; 
While  even  hope,  on  her  white  wings, 
N&  more  the  branch  of  Olive  brings. 


FAREWELL.  157 

':  •   ' 
,       •  ' 

FAREWELL. 

i  '.  ' 

The  dew  drops  of  sorrow  hung  over  thy  youth, 
And  the  sky  of  thy  fortune  was  darken'd  by  tears ; 

Yet  the  rose-bud  of  innocence,  nourish'd  by  truth, 
Shall  expand  in  its  beauty  and  brighten  thy  years. 

The  summer  of  hope  will  yet  beam  on  thy  brow, 

When  the  young  gales  of  spring  in  their  playfulness  cease, 

And  the  soul  that  is  melting  in  tenderness  no-w, 
May  afford  unto  anguish  the  solace  of  peace. 

There's  a  pang  in  my  heart  and  my  brain  is  on  fire, 
And  T  feel  what  my  tongue  nor  my  pencil  can  tell ; 

Yet  oh  to  affection  I  dare  not  aspire, 

While  my  lips  cannot  breathe  thee  a  lasting  farewell^ 

When  the  south  wind  shall  sigh  o'er  thy  beautiful  foran, 
And  thy  bosom  heave  wild  o'er  the  homage  of  truth  ; 

Think,  think  on  the  friend  thou  hast  left  in  the  storm, 
And  whisper  thy  counsel  to  pilot  his  youth. 
14 


158  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

•  *    ?    *   *  *\     •    •    » 

•   .  •  •  - 

Then  oh,  fare-thee-well,  thou  young  gem  of  the  world, 

Thou  bright  cheering  idol  enshrined  in  my  heart  ; 
Thou  peace-flag  of  truth  that  the  breeze  has  unfurl'd, 
As  a  beautiful  beacon  on  memory's  chart. 


ACROSTIC  TO  C/M: 

Cull'd  from  a  garden  Where  the  Graces  rove, 
Among  the  rose-buds  of  thine  early  love, 
Ttoornless  and  beautiful,  that  fresh  boquette 
'Has  wrought  up  feelings  that  my  heart  would  stay. 
Ah  me,  'it  minds  me  of  departed  hours, 
Rosy  and-  bright  as  Eden's  fairest 'flowers-;' 
Instinctive  retrospection  guides  my  way, 
Near  my  loved  home,  where  warmest  thoughts  still  stray : 
Encircled  there  by  smiles,  in  childhood's  hours, 
My  little  garden  stone  with  favor'd  flowers, 
And  I  would  sit  and  watch' the  buds  unclose., 
Cling  the  stray  vine,  or  prop  the  drooping  rose, 
Nurse  the  young  woodbines,  as  they  breathed  around 
Enchanting  sweetness  o'er  that  fairy  ground, 
Ip  beauty  chancing,  like  the  wild  bird's  wing, 
Lovely  as  hope  such  latent  pleasures  spring. 


SONG. 

' 


LAMENT   OF   MRS.   R.   B.   M'GRORTY, 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HER  ONLY  SON,  AGED  TEARS. 

From  the  deep  fountains  of  a  mother's  heart, 
When  hope  is  sever' d,  how  the  tears  will  start ! 
My  beautiful,  my  loved,  my  cherished  son, 
Qould  grief  recall  the  deed  that  death  has  done — . 
Grief,  such  as  fondest  mothers  only  know, 
'Reft  of  the  warmest  joy  they  knew  below — 
Oh,  I  would  wake  such  tones,  angels  in  pain, 
Roused  by  my  woe,  would  bring  thee  back  again-. 

"  Try,  mother,  father,  to  assuage  your  woe, 
You'll  meet  your  son  in  heaven  you  loved  below.5' 

•';'*     •  '.""••*  "'^v  •'..-•"          '  *e  />„' .:-<£'  '.'V-'. 
•    ,-«C-^i-'"V:  '  '  •-*;.  •: 

:.        -      ..'•"••.  **..','•'.    ••*•  


V  *  .SONG   TO   MISS  .  X «/> 

'V->f -v 

AIR — "  Ye  banks  and  braes." 

•  .  t       .'^  ..  r          ••  '  r-'-*. 

I  love,  .but  oh,  I  dare  not  ask 

The  favors  that  my  love  would  crave, 
And  thus  amid  thy  charms  I  bask, 

A  trembling,  fearful,  suppliant  slave. 

•-<- 


160  'MISGELLA-NE-OUS    POEMS. 

I  love,  and  morning,  noon  and  night, 
Are  witness  to  the  pangs  I  feel ; 

Affection's  bliss,  and  sorrow's  blight, 
Alternate  stamp  their  varying  seal.  . . 

'  I  love,  and  when  the  deep  dark  hue 

Of  those  dear  eyes  beams  o'er  my  soul ; 
It  cheers  me  like  the  summer's  de'"w,, 
That  o'er  the  drooping  roses  stole. 

I  dare  not  tell  thee  all  I  feel, 

Words  are  too  weak  to  show  my  pain  ; 

Thy  beauty  where  it  wounds  can  heal, 
And  bring  to  life  the  soul  again.   •;•*;;' 

•.-l-W*-''  -T-  . 

SONG  TO.MISS'.  -;.,>^ 

•'  .  .t       •'•*;.      ^ 

Wilt  thou  change  thy  name,  dearest  ?, 

Wilt  thou  change  thy  name  ? 
'Not  for  wealth  or  fame,  dearest, ' 

But  a  nobler  claim ; 
For  affection's  simple  dower, 
That  will,  like  the  winter's  flower, 
Cheer  thee  in  misfortune's  hour ; 
Wilt  thou  change  thy  name  ? 


LOVE.     -  ^A  161 

^    .  Wilt  thou  change  thy  name,  dearest  ? 

Wilt' thou  change  thy  name  ? 
Nought  have  I  to  urge  as  claim, 

But  a  fair  and  honest  fame  ; 
Nothing  more  can  I  bestow, 
Since  I  gave  thee  long  ago 
All  my  heart,  I  loved  thee  so  ~» 

Wilt  thou  change  thy  name  ? 

*  '«*       ,'  f  "•  •" 

Time  will  only  warm  my  love, 

Wilt  thou  change  thy  name  ? 

•  Every  hour  new  joys  will  prove, 
^    To  increase  the  flame  ; 

And  our  gliding  life  shall  be 

'  *•*.',  .  *.  '    x  , 

Like  a  moonlit  summer  sea, 
Thou  art  all  the  world  to  me — 
'  Wilt  thou  change  thy  name. 


LOVE. 

How  pure  is  the  spirit  of  love, 

When  it  beams  over  beauty  and  youth, 
Its  ethereal  rays  are  all  kindled  above, 

To  light  the  dull  precincts  of  earth. 
14* 


162 


, 

--m  ••*•/*••  '  •  '  ••-       *•*' 

The  warm-breathing  fondness  of  youth, 

Is  seen  in  the  light  of  its  eye, 

•  '  .    Its  pleasure-streams  flow  from  the  fountains  of  truth, 
And  its  roses  bloom  never  to  die. 

'      '  t       -^^     \  *'-^'i'      '  •".•   r  '*  •'• 

The  kind  overflowings  of  soul, 

Deep  sympathies  treasured  and  prized, 

'Tjs  the  yearnings  of  nature  unyoked  from  control, 
And  a  heaven  on  earth  realized. 


ACROSTIC  TO  MISS  M. 


May  Violete,  clustering,  breathe  ardund  thy  way 
In  dewy  bloom  where'er  thy  footsteps  stray  ; 
Should  ever  sorrow,  like  a  raven's  Wing, 
Steal  o'er  thy  sky  and  darkening  shadows  fling, 

May  hope's  young  angel  throw  a  ray  of  light 

•     '     ':*•"*•»    • 
Across  the  gloom  and  make  the  prospect  bright ; 

Could-vwish  of  mine  gild  thy  young  heart  of  truth, 
'Or  plant  an 'Eden  round  the  bower  of  youth, 
No  rose  Were  spared  thy  tresses  to  adorn, 
Cull'd  thornless,  pure  and  bright  as  infant  morn  ; 
And  those  dark  eyes  and  jetty  locks  should  be 
Nursed  in  toy  soul's  best,  deepest  memory. 


•  ,•/*>. '  ** 

:     --•„ 


,  ••        '.  .'*. 


ACROSTICS.    '  f"~ 

ACROSTIC  TO  S.  A. 

Sailing  o'er  the  sea  of  life, 

P  Unswerved  by  grief,  or  care,  or  strife, 

v»?    -• 
Sweetly  may  thy  bark,  in  pride, 

Along  the  dark  blue  waters  glide  ; 
No  rude  storms  or  dark'ning  skies, 
Across  thy  course  in  terror  rise  ; 
Lovely  incense-breathing  gales, 
Lend  their  power  to  swell  thy  sails 
Into  port,  and  safely  moor'd, 
News  of  heaven,  and  thee  on  board. 


163 


ACROSTIC   TO  M.   J.   M. 

May  the  young  buds  that  gem  thine  early  years, 

Just  opening,  drink  like  dew  thine  infant  tears. 

May  the  sweet  cherub  of  felicity 

Cast  its  warm  smile  in  tenderness  o'er  thee. 

Gay  dancing  hours  weave  round  thee  new  found  blisses, 

Rich  as  rose-lipp'd  morning's  sweetest  kisses  ; 

O'er  tire  warm  lovelight  .of  thy  beaming  eyes, 

Rest  nursingly  affection's  purest  joys  ; 

Time  pinion  thee,  light-wing'd  through  life's  lone  hours, 

Youthful  as  joy  and  beautiful  as  flowers. 


.'•''"'".  v  .  *  '-;A  •">§ 

fc'  '"••'        "  ••'     *  '•     ' '  r*  •  '     '  .    '**    •          • '     '  V       •'*«• 

164  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

ACROSTIC   TO  A.   J.   B.  J. 

Among  the  rose-buds  of  thine  early  years, 

Ne'er  may  the  thorns  of  sorrow  waken  tears,"  1 
•  •  v  *•  •  .  «      •     '^^ 

Nor  blighted  hopes,  those  mildews  of  life's  spring, 

.»  *»' A       *  **? T» 

Jar  the  sweet  notes  that  innocence  would  sing  ; 

Be  thine  the  lot,  through  life  to  wildly  stray, 

Joyous,  through  paths  where  virtue  points  the  way, 

Oh  may  affection  and  requited  love, 

Hang  o'er  thy  smiles,  and  tenderest  feelings  move ; 

No  cloud  to  dim,  or  care  to  steal  away 

Suclj  sunny  thoughts  as  o'er  thy  features  play."    ( 

Oh  may'st  thou  Jive  as  thou  would'st  wish  -to'diej 

Nor  dying,  wake  a  thought  but  breathes  of  joy. 

TO  MISS  M  . 

*  .*-.  •  •'»/*.•  <|        ,    r^  %.    /  •  .'  .*, . 

•  fc.     While  the  star  of  love  is  beaming 
Over  the  young  bounding  heart, 
While  affection's  lanrp  is  gleaming, 
O'er  the  bliss  thy  smiles  impart. 

Gather  up  the  beams  of  pleasure, 

•  Sparkling  round  thy  spring-time  hours,  -/ 
Feeling's  gems  of  hoarded  treasure, 

Strung  for  winter's  faded  flowers. 


- 

'  •'*•    *     "•**'''-      k  ••*.»"'    '   '*  '..'    "  •'."*•/.*•' 

ACROSTIC.    .  165 

'  * '  *  •     . 

Jt  '*  •  .    •  * » 

Time  may  sweep  his  light  wing  o'er  thee, 

Bleaching  thy  dark  locks  with  snow, 
But  the  herald  truth,  before  thee, 

. 

Clears  thy  path  of  dark'ning  woe. 

Hope  with  sceptred  hand  shall  hail  thee, 

Cheering  soft  through  ruby  smiles, 
That  thy  courage  may  not  fail  thee, 

In  the  close  of  earthly  toils. 

Then  through  golden  portals  gliding, 

May  thy  spirit  hail  its  way, 
And  on  bosom'd  love  confiding, 

Wake  to  rapture's  endless  day. 


ACROSTIC   TO  MISS  M.   S. 

May  spring's  young  flowrets  all  their  fragrance  throw, 
In  sportive  beauty,  o'er  thy  path  below  ; 
Secure  amid  the  snares  and  wiles  of  youth, 
Stay'd  by  the  powers  of  innocence  and  truth, 

May  all  the  joys  that  friendship  gives  be  thine, 

» 
Sway'd  by  no  motive  mean,  but  pure  as  mine. 

True  in  thy  love,  oh,  mayst  thou  find  a  heart 
O'ercharged  with  kindness,  and  be-all  thou  art ; 
Unfolding  time  will  then  but  bring  to  thee 
Thy  unfledged  hopes,  in  blest  reality. 

*     * "  Jt^'    '      * '   "  *      * 


166  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


ACROSTIC   FOR   AN   ALBUM. 


May  the  soft  beams  of  virtue  illumine  thy  youth, 
And  the  roses  of  hope  ever  blush  in  thy  way, 

Round  thy  brow  be  encircled  the  chaplet  of  truth, 
The  brightest  of  gems  in  the  proudest  array..    . 

How  fancy  will  swell  as  thy  beauties  unfold,, 

.      .  •.•."•'>! 

And  weave  with,  its  fingers  thy  tresses  of  gold  ; 

Fair,  fair,  as  the  lily  that  blooms  on  the  lea, 

And  pure  as  thy  thought,  may  each  page  ever  be, 

Unfolding  a  precept,  a  blossom,  or  flower, 

Cull'd  wild  from  the  forest,  or  nurse  1  in  the  bower  ; 

In  ten4erness  touching,  in  narrative  clear, 

A  monitor,  pressing,  but  never  severe  ; 

Peace,  peace  be  thy  lot,  may  affection  entwine, 

O'er  thy  beauty-wreathed  bower,  these  warm  wishes  of  min 

Love,  health,  joy  and  smiles,  a  rich  competence  clear, 

Kind  friends,  and  a  world  of  contentment  each  year. 


•%   '  • 
* ' 

* ,  * 
,   v-_ 


i"*  »-*»»•   '«•'.  •; 

THERE'S   HOPE  IN  THE  FUTURE.       167 


,    THERE'S   HOPE   IN   THE   FUTURE. 

Therms  hope  in  the  future,  then  why  should  we  sorrow?    ; 

The  wisest  will  err,  and  a  moment  forget, 
That  the  clouds  in  their  sky  may  clear  off  on  the  morrow, 

And  days  all  shade-hidden  in  bright  glory  set.       »'• 

There's  hope  in  the  future,  for  virtue  can  sleep  in 
The  depths  of  a  heart  that  the  world'may  despise, 

And  the  sweet  little  cherub  of  mercy  may  creep  in, 
To  wake  the  young  angel  and  bid  him  arise. 

"    .   4    ,  '\      •        -.*.   ••   +  I,'.'-"      *     •*•  '     iff  •     ' 

There's  hope  in  the  future ;  then  up  and  be  doing, 
When  tempest  is  token'd,  trim  fair  for  the  gale  ; 

And  when  the  warm  breezes  of  fortune  are  wooing, 
Why1  crowd  up  the  shrouds,  boy,  and  unreef  the  sail, 

There's  hope  in  the  future  ;  e'en  glory  proves  palling, 
That  garlands  the  brow  without  trouble  or  pain, 

As  the  maid  is  despised  that  will  come  without  calling, 
Or  treasures  esteem'd  by  the  toils  in  their  gain. 

There's  hope  in  the  future  ;  and  who  has  neglected  '    v 
•The  past,  and  tops  highest  the  ladder  of  fame, 

Will  most  earn  the  honors  he  long  has  neglected, 

And  wreathe  brightest  gems  round  the  brow  of  his'name. 


168  -MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


V  -THE  FEELINGS  OF  J.   NOBLE, 

Who  was  for  years  a  Tavern-keeper  in  Harrodsburg,  Ky.,  OH  his 
leaving  in  a  state  Of  destitution,  the  scene  of  his  prosperity  and 
pleasure. 
jr..JF       •    t        ^ -'*>•'..•-..•.»*•••    ,'•/>.<''•*•'    '.•'•'.'  • 

Farewell  to  the  scenes  of  my  once  happy  hours, 
My  heart  swells  with  grief  as  I  bid  you  adieu  ; 

Farewell  to  my  garden,  my  orchard  and  flowers,' " 
With  every  loved  spot  that  recedes  from  my  view. 

'••;    v-f  v<  **•*  •'.;  -       •  *•":''  •;-":  :t*':-'' ':'  *"-;' 

,  'Farewell,  my  game-chickens,  fell  source  of  my  pleasures, 
Farewell,  the  companions  that  hasten'd  my  fall  ; 

Your  smiles  were  as  brief  as  my  fast  fading  treasures, 

•     .  '  -  .  •  )  • 

,*.  <•••  And  where  is  old  Cuff,*  the  best  friend  of  you  all  ? 

I  j 

When  yon  house  was  mine  own  with  my  children  around  me, 
ife*    Did  ever -a  stranger  in  want  pass  my  door  ? 
,    No  j  they  ever  a  friend  to  the  destitute  found  me, 
Yet  now  I  am  old,  and  oh  God,  I  am  poor. 

';'-;£:';&;'      ^.  •;.'*•: 

My  hand  was  too  open,  my  heart  was  too  kind, 
And  charity  wander'd  too  far  from  her  home ; 

Yet  these  are  reflections  should  comfort  a  mind, 
That  sorrowing  now  amid  strangers  must  roam. 

*  A  large  pet  bear. 


^INES.  169 

Deserted  and  lone,  e'en  the  wife  I  had  cherish'd,     - .. 

,  The  mother  of  children  still  dear  to  my  heart, 
Was  the  first  to  desert  me,  that  moment  hope  perish'd, 
And  pain  bled  afresh  when  I  saw  her  depart. 

Farewell,  my  old  friends,  and  should  sorrow  o'ertake  you, 
Or  poverty's  fangs  ever  mark  you  her  own,  •  •         A  t. 

May  health  and  may  fortitude  never  forsake  you, 
And  ne'er  may  you  wander  unblest  and  alone. 


LINES 

SUGGESTED  BY  HEARING   A    NEGRO    RELATE  HIS   EXPERIENCE    AT    A   LOVE  - 

FEAST. 

,  •      Come,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  listen  to  me, 

While  I  give  you  a  lesson  of  love; 
The  voice  of  my  Saviour  has  whisper'd  me  free, 
And  I'm  bound  for  the  Canaan  above. 

I  rise  in  the  morning  and  breathe  a  warm  prayer,      ' 

Then  away  to  the  corn-field  I  go  ; 
And  I  work  with  delight,  for  my  Jesus  is  there, 

And  He  can  cheer  all  things,  you  know. 

15  . 


170 


"V 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEM?.- 

•••    •  •       •    • 


*    :• 


'   •        .  •.    •     •. 

In  sunshine  or  shade  I  can  fancy  his  smile, 

... .  He-live^  in  the  rainbow  and  showers, 

•  •  •  ''  %* 

In  the  crystals  that  shine  when  the  sunbeams  at  play 

Dafice  over  the  grass  and  the  flowers.- 

'*••••."''».*          .        .  •«  '  .'          *  •    * 

',  '      v.  t  .,  I*  \ 

I   •  • «  . .     •  /  ,  _tj_:. , 

When  in  driving  my  team,  or  I  shell  out  my  corrt, 

'  Or  go  down  in  the  valley  to  pray, 
•   If  my  Saviour  but  smile,  oh  how  bright  is  the  morn, 
Each  day  is  a  sweet  sabbath-day. 

*'/     *  * 

<i 
I'm  hurrying  home,  for  my  dark  clouds  are  gone, 

And  my  so*ul  bounds  to  heaven  in  prayer  ;  • 
.  While  me?cy  and  love  seems  to  beckon  me  on, 
/•%  And  Jesus  will  welcome  .rfie  there. 


LINES 


£KOM-  A    SOLDIER   ON    THE    RIO   GRANDE,    TO   AN    AFFECTIONATE    WIFE    IN 
T«E    UNITED    STATES: 


Though  I'm  far  across  the  billow," 
With  no  fond  caress  of  thine, 

Think  not  I've  a  tearless  pillow, 
"Neath  this  aching  heart  of  mine. 


L  I  N  E  S. 


f 


*i    .'      *'' 


Yet  the  wish'd-for  hope  before  me, 
That  we  soon  may  meet  again, 

Like  an  angel's  smile  comes  o'er  me, 
To  disperse  the  clouds  of  pain. 


171 


Is  my  heart  less  warm  towards  thee,  .'   , 

While  no  more  I  meet  thy  love  ? 

•:;•  J  .•:  '>*>V 

Think  thee  do  I  less  regard  thee, 

While  in  stranger  lands  I  rove  ?  /  . 

1  '  ,••  '•  ~ .    ••  ' 

Each  succeeding  moment  trembles, 

O'er  my  fate  the  livelong  day.,  ..  .J 
And  each  flower  I  meet,  resembles 
Some  remembrance  far  away. 

When  my  children  play  around  thee, 

<  ^      ',*.  .» •    tf    •"»*,'*  -  « 

How  I  envy  thee  their  smiles, 
Links  of  gold  that  closer  bound  thee 
*»••     Fohdly  in  affection's  wiles. 

Every  tender  word  here  spoken, 
Comes  across  my  heart  in  pain, 


\Vhispering  some  endearing  token, 
Pledged  till  we  may  meet  again. 


:    »         • 
.-     ' 

. 


172  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

&',       »;-  :  .';,  .*.•.  4-/. 

Will  our  meeting  breathe  affection, 
'  f  ~    >•*  i  *'.*''..     f 

,   Such,  as  thou  could  once  impart,  r  ••  .';.".'• 

Warm  within  my  recollection, 

-  From  the  fountain  of  thy  hearl?' 

•  *''  *••**.'•"•         •   •.  -       t.      .-.      'f'  ~  t  ', 

Oh,  how  we  have  loved  each  other, 

With  a  fervor  few  have  known  ; 

And  the  grief  I  fain  would  smother, 


Wakens,'  deepens  passion's  tone. 


LINES  ADDRESSED  TO  W.  F.  M. 

BY    HIS   BROTHER -R.    M.    OF   LEAMINGTON,   ENGLAKD. 

•-  • 

Farewell,  there  are  hearts  that  will  never  forget  thee, 

Where  hallow'd  affections  are  deeply  enshrined  ; 
There  are  feelings  once  shared  that  will  ever  regret  thee, 
.    Wherever  thou  goest  around  thee  entwined. 

1  ' *•  .'.'•'<'-.•  •*,  *"  ,\* '"•         .-••',  .' 
As  wending  thy  way  on  a  far  distant  shore, 

When  o'er  thee  the  orange-tree  proudly  shall  wave, 
Oh  say  to  thy  feelings,  will  memory  restore 

The  scenes,  the  loved  forms  which  thy  early  thoughts  gave. 


AOROSTIC.  17'-} 

•  « . ' .  '  f  '*.  .  •  ' 

Oh  warm  are  the  hopes  and  the  prayers  that  shall  bless  thee, 

As  on  thou  art  borne  o'er  the  billowy  sea ; 
And  ardent  the  feelings  that  still  shall  caress  thee,' 

Where'er  the  last  steps  of  thy  journey  shall  be. 

Farewell,  and  may  blessings  attend  in  thy  train, 
Wherever  thy  life's  chequer'd  lot  may  be  cast ; 

In  sunshine,  or  storm,  amid  pleasure  or  pain, 

To  thee  there  are  hearts  that  will  cling  to  the  last. 

V:-J%t  -V    _        •/ 

.#  ,fu.vr.:.v^- 

ACROSTIC   TO   M.   T.   P.   R. 

May  pleasure  strew  her  smiles  around  thy  way, 
To  cheer  the  buoyant  spring-time  of  thy  day, 
Pure  as  the  dew  that  gem  Castilian  flowers,    •* 
Round  rose-lipp'd  beauty  in  the  summer  bowers. 
Oh,  may  thine  heart  in  sympathetic  glow, 
Catch  the  warm  tears  from  feeling's  overflow4} 
Hourly  may  joy  her  brightest  scenes  display, 
Enchanting  life,  with  glittering,  varied  ray. 
Should  ever  sorrow  cloud  thy  path  of  truth, 
Trust  in  the  love  that  beams  around  thy  youth  ; 
Each  prayer  of  thine  commands  an  angel  care, 
Reveal'd  in  heaven  for  thee  on  earth  to  share. 
15* 


174  MI-SCEkLANEOUS,  PQEMS. 


ACROSTIC  TO  A.  S. 

L    . '  *  r' 
Mild  as  evening's  softest  sigh, 

In  early  spring,  'mid  buds  and  flowers, 
Serene  as  summer's  dark  blue  sky, 

So  sweetly  glide  thy  youthful  hours ; 
."And  oh  may  hope  with  angel  wing, 

Nurse  the  young  wishes  of  thine  heart ; 
No  thought  that  virtue  might  not  bring,    :    ', 
•  .  <  -  Around  thy  bosom  pain  impart ;     . 
Should  ever  Cupid's  playful  dart, 

•          i»  ~ .  ~  *       '*  *  •    v    ,       '*t~»'w     .  *•  *   , 

Hover  o'er  thy  glowing  heart, 
Every  joy  shall  round  thee  cling, 
Love  can  strew,  or  pleasure  bring ; 
Beauty  such  as  thine  can  throw 
Young  roses  over  earthly  woe. 


^  .  '•:..j*k-.ji;r..*.  -f-^  ,. •.•••'..'••;>. 

:v.  I  LOVE  NOT. 

,*  .^   .AiR — "  Auld  Larig  Syne."- 

I  love  not  as  I  .used  to  love, 
WTith  burning,  thrilling  power  ; 

When  each  new  pulse  with  rapture  strove, 
To  gild  the  passing  hour. 


..::•• 

. 


I    LOVE    NOT.  175 


I  meet  not  as  I  used  to  meet, 

Thy  smiles  around  my  heart, 
When  passion  chain'd  my  ling'ring  feet, 

•.     .  .  *  '  * 

Beyond  the  wish  to  part. 
»,       '  .  '  '•/""' 

.  ii 

I  live  not  as  I  used  to  live, 

To  all  but  thee  unknown  ; 

'*  m  ^ 

When  earth  no  further  joy  could  give, 
Than  deeming  thee  mine  own. 


I  feel  not  as  I  used  to  feel, 

In  early  budding  youth, 
When  sweet  affection's  rosy  seal, 

Had  stamp' d  my  soul  with  truth. 

>  -A  * 

I  sing  not  now  as  once  I  sung, 

When  first  Hope's  flag  unfurl'd, 
Million'd  with  mirror'd  gems,  that  flung 
A  grandeur  o'er  the  world. 

t  Time  lays  her  frozen  fingers  now, 

Smutch'd  o'er  with  care  and  strife, 
Upon  my  heart  and  lip  and  brow, 
And  chills  the  streams  of  life. 


.  .  ,  .      , 

176  MISCELLANEOUS.  POEMS. 


ACROSTIC  TO  S.  E.  W. 

-    /:  •    V-,Y'--V"- 

Soft  as  the  moonbeam^  on  a  quiet  lake, 

And  beautiful  as  early  spring-time  roses  ; 
Loved  as  the  thrills  that  o'er  the  bosom  break, 

Like  new-found  treasures  where  first  love  reposes  ;    • 
In  sweetest  rounds  of  rapture  glide  thy  days, 

Each  moment  bringing  some  new  hoped-for  joy, 
Ere  care  attempt  to  steal  young  pleasure's  rays, 

Which  time  may  shadow  but  cari  ne'er  destroy  : 
Each  virtue  and  each  mental  grace  be  thine, 

In  youth  or  age  still  may  thy  lot  be  blest  ; 
Serene  when  clouds  make  other  hearts  repine, 
•  And  every  change  bring  pleasures  to  thy  breast;      '/ 
(  rrant,  if  a  grief  wake  in  thine  eyes  a  tear, 
Each  wish'd-for  smile  may  form  a  rainbow  there, 
Reposing  like'  sweet  thoughts  above  each  coming  year. 


THE   MEXICAN   WAR. 

:•'•  -  V     .  •  '  .** 


What  mind  prophetic  through  the  gloom  ^x^w...*^  . 

*  .  ******          "*ii        Jtoto    v 

Can  trace  the  picture  in  the  dark  background  ? 

The  thousand  curses  that  on  war  await, 

And  follow,  hidden,  through  the  conqueror's  gate  ? 

'••*' 

•*«•-.•  ,  -  -  . 

. 

•  .    "<a.     :.&'•;     '.».' 


THE     MEXICAN     WAR.  ;        177 

A.  vast  Republic  shrouded,  pall'd  by  gloom, 

Nine  million  souls  in  fear  await  their  doom.       ,    ' 

How  dread  the  insecurity  that  binds      /  •  . 

Its  icy  fetters  o'er  their  palsied  minds-:    ; 

From  their  loved  homes  scared  fugitives  they  fly, 

Or  meet  the  foe  in  frenzy  —  but  to  die. 

No  more  for  them  its  sweets  the  garden  yields,    *t  v.f 

Or  golden  grain  nods  o'er  their  fruitful  fields  ; 

No  more  their  native  groves  their  hours  beguile, 

Or  limpid  fountains  in  their  pathway  smile. 

No  longer  now,  when  moonlight's  silver  sheen 
Throws  its  soft  radiance  o'er  the  village  green, 
The  young  enjoy  the  music-breathing  ,hours 

*    i.      *  '      •r-     * 

In  gay  fandango,  o'er  the  sleeping  flowers  ; 
No  longer  now  the  vesper's  silver  chime, 
Rings  on  the  evening's.  fairy-footed  time, 
Or  maidens  clasp  their  crucifix  in  prayer, 
.     Tell  o'er  their  beads,  or  ask  the  Virgin's  care  :       >." 
A  wintery  coldness  shrouds  their  evening  lay, 
And  scares  Devotion's  angel-form  away. 
No  longer  now  sweet  sleep  enchains  the  mind, 
Or  blissful  dreams  around  the  senses  wind  ; 
But  ghastly  forms  fierce,  ill-doom'd  terrors  bring, 
scream-ing  vultures  flap  the  boding  wing. 


,** 


178  •    MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

•I  *  !      4*  *       •  ^     '     f '     ~  , 

"  '    '•    '  ',       '        '  '  ',«     .       V       '   ' 

The  mother  clasps  her  infant  to  her  breast, 
.     And  asks  of  .Heaven,  in  sobs,  a  final  rest. 
^>Y    '  Oh  why  "has  freedom  bathed  her  hands  in  blood, 
While  her  own  altars  unmolested  stood  ? 
Was  not  her  star-gemm'd  banner  wide  unfurl'd, 
•  To  shade  oppression  from  an  enslaved  wrorld  ? 
And  wjll  she  crush  the  fledgelings  of  an  hour, 
In  all  the  wranton  tyranny  of  power?     .       •'»  ;>  / 
Oh  bid  sweet  Mercy  spread  her  soft  white  wing,    , 
And  to  their  homes  your  conquering  legions  bring. 


LIFE'S  YOUNG  SCENES. 

•          •  -T  '"'  '         ,  ,       »•'  »">• 

Come,  Memory,  take  me  once  more  by  the  hand, 

And  lead  me  afar  to  my  own  native  land  ; 

Oh  take  me  again  to  my  own  cottage  door, 

Where  the  toys  of  my  childhood  strew  wildly  the  floor.; 

With  my  mother  caressing,  -I  see  her  smile  now, 

While  combing"  and  parting  the  curls  on  my  brow  ; 

*  *    i.    .-.'.* 

With  the  father  that  pray'd  o'er  me  morning  and  eve, 
And  the  sisters  that  wept  when  their  brother  would  grieve ; 
And  the  garden  where  pleasure  sat  circling  the  hours, 
As  I  watched' the  young  buds  of  my  favorite  flowers  ; 


LIFE'S  YOUNG  SCENES/  179 

WTith  the  old  trysting  thorn,  'twixt  the  still  and  the  gate, 

Where  our  meetings  wrere  early,  and  partings  were  late  ; 

While  the  moonbeams  that  chequer'd  the  white  blossoms  thro' 

Laid  silvery  gems  on  the  daisy-cup'd  dew  ; 

And.  the  little  green  meadow  that  sloped  to  the  brook, 

Where  my  footsteps  oft  follow'd  the  windings  it  took ; 

Or  I  stoop'd  down  to  pluck— oh  how  dear  is  the  theme  f  J{ 

The  bright  yellow  blossoms  that  studded  the  stream  ;^v 

Or  I  plaited  a  cap  of  the  rushes  that  grew 

On  its  green  sedgy  banks,  for — I'll  not  tell  you  who  ; 

Or  snatch'd  at  the  minnows,  which  oft  as  I  dipp'd 

My  hand  in  the  stream,  through  my  foil'd  fingers  slipp'd  ; 

I  remember,  when  wearied,  the  nook  where  I  laid"  *:;»*; 

Ort  the  grass,  while  the  trout  o'er  the  bright  ripples  play'd, 

As  my  little  dog  Dash,  at  the'  top  of  his  speed, 

Chased  the  zig-zaging  butterflies' over  the  mead. 

It  was  out  of  that  bank  from  the  m,oss  round  about, 

That  a  little  brown  linnet  came  fluttering  out,          !'>.-'*. s 

And  it  circled  my  head  for  a  minute  or  more, 

*  '•'»'•    '. 
Then  flew  to  the  spot  it  had  sprung  from  before  ; 

I  parted  the  flo.wers  to  the  moss,  in  the  shade, 

And  found  out  the  tiny  round  nest  it  had  made  ; 

The  eggs  were  all  speckled,  and  warm  from  the  breast,       . 

And  I  wish'd  them  my  own,  yet  I  left  them  to  rest ; 


180  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

And  in  leaving  the  brook  how  my  young  heart  did  bound, 
For  it  was  the  first  bird's  nest  I  ever  had  found. 
Could  trme  take  me  back  through  the  mist-gloom  of  years, 
To  the  gre«n  spots  of  childhood  made  holy  by  tears, 
'  Would  the  Cowslips  and  primroses  seen  through  the  shade 
Of  the  old  hawthorn  tree,  look  as  bright  from  the  glade  ? 
Would  the  brook  be  as  clear,  or  the  rushes  as  green  ? 
Or  the  bird's  nest  give  joy  as  \\hen  last  it  was  seen  ? 

'  •*,  *  *  *  *t 

Would  the  daisies  or  buttercups  bloom  to  the  eye 
Of  the  faded  old  man,  as  they  did  to  the  boy  ? 
Oh  no,  for  the  waves  of  "the  dark  sea  of  years 
Are  over  his  spirit,  and  drown  it  in  tears. 


PARAPHRASE  OF  A  LETTER, 

•  •'.' :.     fr- 

WRITTEN    BY    A    RETURNED  VOLUNTEER,    FROM    MEXICO,    TO  HIS  PARENTS, 
A    FEW    DAYS    BEFORE    HIS    DEATH,    IN    NEW   ORLEANS. 

The  curtains,  of  death  close  in  darkness  around  me, 
My  spirit  ere  long  like  a  bird  will  be  free  i 

Tho'  I  stray'd  from  my  home  to  where  wild  war  had  bound  me, 
I  know  that  forgiveness  is  breathing  for  me. 


THE   NEW   YEAR.  181 


. 

'    No  mother  to  pillow  my  head  in  its  anguish, 

No  father  to  wipe  the  death-sweat  from  my  brow  ; 
Not  long  amid  strangers  in  pain  shall  I  languish, 
I  feel  the  cold  hand  of  the  grave  on  me  now. 

The  God  I  have  loved  from  my  earliest  childhood, 

My  shield  from  the  death-storm,  now  beckons  me  home  • 
Lo,  Saviour;  I  come  from  earth's  dark,  tangled  wild-wood, 
•  .  Through  Eden's  bright  bowers  amid  sunshine  to  roam. 

I  fear  the  cold  pangs  of  the  grim  King  of  Terrors, 

Yet  angels  are  waiting  to  soften  the  pain  ; 
Then  grieve  not  the  loss,  I  shall  triumph  o'er  error, 

Nor  wish  my  freed  spirit  in  bondage  again.  '  '^ 

And  oh,  in  the  beautiful,  boundless  dominion, 

How  happy  our  meeting  —  when  parting  's  no  more  ; 

•Where  sorrow's  dark  shade  finds  no  rest  for  her  pinion, 
O'er  death's  boundless  main,  on  eternity's  shore. 

~~~ 
THE   NEW   YEAR. 

The  snow-shroud  is  woven,  the  last  trembling  tear 
Like  an  icicle  hangs  on  the  fast  fading  year. 
The  winter-storm  groans  as  it  flits  through  the  air, 
A  requiem  howl'd  o'er  the  grave  of  despair. 

16 


.•».'••  » .       •..-:•••;.• 

182  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Hark !  heard  you  that  knell  on  the  midnight's  lone  tongue, 
As  it  woke  the  new  year  that  came  shiv'ring  along ; 
How  varied  and  wild  the  reflections  it  brought, 
While  troubling  the  waves  on  the  broad  sea  of  thought ; 
How  oft  had  our  bark,  when  life's  ocean  grew  wild, 
Been  toss'd  in  its  sinewy  arms  like  a  child, 

*•*•'"  '        .   *•  •  *•"*  '  f  ".'*•" 

With  rudder  unshipp'd,  sails  flashing  on  high, 
Like  sea-birds,  dark  spotting  the  breast  of  the  sky ; . 
No  pilot,  no  compass,  no  chart  of  the  way, 

'  •  •"    4     '      *  * 

No  star-gleam  by  night,  and  no  sunbeam  by  day. 
The  white  foam  curl'd  proudly  its  crest  in  the  cloud, 
And  the  storm-spirit  echoed  long,  dreary,  and  loud. 

Crash,  crash,  went  the  masts,  as  she  heaved  to  the  sky?  ' 
'  That  answer'd  in  thunijer  the  seaman's  shrill  cry ;   ' 
Dark  clouds  like  a  pall  gather'd  blackness  around,1 
See,  see  the  huge  waves  from  the  vessel  rebound  ; 
Hark !  heard  you  those  prayers  in  the  cleft  of  the  storm  "'. 
As  the  angel  of  love,  bent  his  beautiful  form, 
Like  the  rainbow  of  hope,  o'er  the  archway  pf  joy, 
From  the  ocean's  extremes  to  the  blue  of  the  sky.  ,  .    . 
See,  see  where  the  clouds  roll  in  grandeur  away, 
And  the  waves  hide  their  heads  in  the  mist  of  the  spray-, 
Peace,  peace  came  in  music,  for  Jesus  was  there,  '_:/•.- 
And  the  huge  billows  nestled  to  sleep  in  his  care. 


•."i-  *•*••,'    ••-•"':"'•*    '        <;'»*ir  *:  •  ; 

ACROSTIC.  183 

With  Jesus  as  pilot  on  Zion's  old  bark, 
We  have  compass  and  rudder  and  star  in  the  dark ; 
And  oh  may  He  guide  us  life's  wide  ocean  o'er, 
'Till  a  plank  be  heaved  out  on  eternity's  shore,,,- 

:  ,*•:*'    'W-  .         '  '•'•'•"•''. 

;•*•*•:*;  '      -.  —v   -.;  «#A  ,  .   ;«;<4 

;;V.;. "    -.;;     —    o - ;.  s,:v ..:•;> 

'*'   '.'.•?'"         ^     »  .      •     v 

ACROSTIC  TO  M.  T. 

"•-*•'  ,  *  * 

i 

May  Joy  from  out  her  favor'd  bowers, 
Around  thee  fling  her  wildest  flowers  ; 
Roses  in  thy  path  be  blowing, 
Young,  and  beautifully  glowing  ; 

r  *       *      .        ,  t  «V 

As  the  fairy-footed  time, 

...  :.r-     Trips  along  to  notes  of  glee, 

-*       ' 

Oh  may  sweets  from  every  clime, 

Melt  in  honey  dews  for  thee. 

« 
Lady  of  the  ebon  tress, 

•/ 

In  wrhose  eyes  beams  tenderness, 

ffe'er  may  care  with  raven  wing, 

Shadows  o'er  thy  future  fling  ; 

Oh,  may  hope  in  rainbow  dyes, 

Nurse  thy  young  wishes  as  they  g] owing  rise. 


MISCELLANEOUS   .POEMS. 


-.-  ;••  •«2fW>*r   •'.'>;;•„  '•  -,:-.v?-  -4.x  «Vt  Vj\**'Y4 
•    .  Swan  of  the  deeply  wounded  wing, 

I  love  those  sorrowing  notes  of  thine, 

•*•':'  '.'  For' oh,  across  my  heart  they  fling 

"*•• .    'V 
' ''^,.  The  pleasure-pangs  that  once  were  mine^ 

In  life's  young  morn  thy  heart  was  sear'd, 
"•     'By  disappointment's  withering  brand..  \ 
And  thy  lone  waking  pillow  tear'd 

By  streams  that  flow'd  from  sorrow's  land.      "*I»-  - 

*       •** '    •         •  *    f  !  *     ft  ** >  •' 

Oh  tune,  sweet  bird,  that  strain  again, 

'•     ;»•''.. '".  )  i   i!    ._•  •  t  •."•'  •.'•;}'  •'  '  •'•*••'"'. ^ V« '      »  ••*•     • 

The  fond  ear  listening  courts  thy  lay, 
*     '  flowers  breathe  sweeter  incense  when 


The^y  smile  beneath  thy  music's  play. 

Thy  last,  sad,  sweetest  warblings  o'er, 
Thy  wing  shall  trace  a  sunnier  clime, 

\yhere  streams  and  flowers  for  evermore 
Shall  glad  that  drooping  heart  of  thine. 

•'     •  ,    ,•  -^     •''    "•,„''.•   i   '    *.  f\      '.     .V  •     .'     .      f^  *-  . 

^•'^*\'---^\  ;v;;;;'  -.V:>"'^'--V' 

"^..•-••;  •->;^O,'V.:K/'  ^;--V 


* 


MY    PAST.  185 


MY  PAST. 

>  *  •' "  p*i  •  •  •  • '  i  i 

-My  past  has  been  poison'd  with  weeds  from  my  birth, 

And  the  future  affords  me  no  promise  of  flowers, 

My  heart  scarcely  knows  the  kind  sunshine  of  earth, 

For  adversity's  clouds  ever  darken'd  my  hours. 


The  streamlets  of  hope  in  their  rippling  play, 

Wander'd  far  from  the  fields  where  my  footstep's  have 

stray 'd  ; 
While  the  rose-bud  seem'd  drooping  with  tears  on  my  way, 

And  the  scenes  I  most  loved,  were  the  soonest  to  fade. 

'•*      *. 

.»     «•  .»  f    if  '*  I. 

My  heart  has  been  crush'd  by  unkindness  and  care, 
And  wounded  affections  have  waken'd  my  tears, 

*  "  "vij 

My  spirit  is  broken  and  tamed  by  despair, 

And  my  soul  bow'd  down  by  the  anguish  of  years. 

'     i/.:  :'•;:>: 

•  ('       i    : 

Yet  oh  there's  a  rest  where  the  weary  will  lay, 

When  the  struggle  is  over,  and  time  breathes  its  last,.^     . 

When  mortality  sleeps  in  its  confines  of  clay, 

i 
And  the  spirit  no  longer  broods  over  the  past. 

16* 


186        MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  . 

'..•%-  •        ,'''.'  '  f-  -.  -  * 

•;- •-  '-.*»'"•'        ''•*"•  tT*  '"'-*•"         i  • 'vV*v***'-'1  1      '•'• 

LINES, 

,  ADDRfcSSED  TO  W.  F.  MARVIN,  BY  HIS  BROTHER,  RICHARD  .MARVIN. 


I  saw  thee  last  when  childhood  gay, 
Beguiled  with  -dreams  the  blissful  day  ; 
When  nature's  gayest  smiles  were  taught, 
To  will  my  fond  believing  thought  ; 

Childhood,  the  home  of  fancy's  flowers, 

.    j*. 
Where  hope  still  leads  the  circling  hours, 

Life,  dearest  theme  in  every  stage, 
The  song  of  youth,  the  harp  of  age  ;   '  -,•" 
From  thence  what  mournful  sweetness  springs, 
When  mem'ry  wakes  the  answering  strings  ; 
The  tear  will  leave  its  hidden  cell, 
And  passion  own  the  pleasing  spell. 
While  nature's  mutest,  feeblest  chord, 
Vibrates  responsive  to  the  word. 

Years  to  their  home  have  fleeted  fast,    . 
The  boundless  ocean  of  the  past, 
And  jaded  memory  gives  to  thee, 
But  the  forgetfulness  of  me  ; 
Yet  should  thy  once  loved  native  shore, 
Thy  lingering  wishes  claim  no  more, 


LINES.  187 

Each  kindred  bosom  still  would  crave, 

The  transient  joys  that  fancy  gave. 

Once  more  thy  childhood's  home  I  view, 

And  trace  its  parting  joys  anew  ; 

Again  I  mark  the  dwindled  spot, 

Too  dear  to  each  to  be  forgot, 

Where  oft  our  wearied  forms  have  laid, 

•    .T«  ' 

Beneath  the  willow's  grateful  shade. 
Yet  Nature's  wilder  beauties  tell, 
The  scenes  where  fancy  loved  to  dwell ; 
Still  beauty's  spirit  lights  the  dawn, 
And  strews  with  smiles  the  daisied  lawn  ; 

Still  darkly  waves  the  distant  w.ood, 
•   '      .  .  -  '       • 

Still  rippling  falls  the  limpid  flood  ; 

Young  Hope  once  fondly  hover'd  there, 
And  still  would  I  her  blessings  share  ; 
But  while  the  transient  wish  beguiles, 
She  far  removes  her  winning  smiles  ; 
Yet  time  shall  snatch  unfading  flowers, 
If  peace  but  calm  its  closing  hours, 
And-  o'er  the  scene  sweet  Hope  the  while, 
'  Shall  waft  a  bright  unclouded  smile. 

Hinckley,  Leicestershire,  England,  May  28th,  1837. 


188  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

.  .      DIRGE, 

OVER  THE  GRAVE  OF  GENERAL  Z.  TAYLOR. 

'  '  \      '  **•  '  \       *  /  *  /         •*  I       ^  K      '  *^x     •        '       ^ 

Rest,  warrior,  rest,  in  thy  horned-nursed  bed, 

A  soldier  bard  breathes  of  thy  name  ; 
Yet  faint  are  the  laurels  he  wreathes  round  thy  head, 

WThile  the ; world  is  too  scant  for  thy  fame. 
*•».'•  t  T°  '  :        t 

How  brave  in  the  battle, — thine  arm  was  a  host, 

And  confidence  flash'd  from  thine  eye ; 
Where  death  clung  to  danger  was  ever  thy  post, 

And  who  but  t6  shield  thee  would  die. 

• ....  •  ••  •          • 

'  •  •'. 

Thy  course,  like  the  river  that  witness'd  thy  fame, 
.Swept  over  each  wave  that  would  bound  ;  .-. ,  ' 
And  the  echoes  of  ages  shall  thunder  thy  name, 
To  the  hills  and  the  mountains  around. 

The  dread  frowning  forts  of  the  farhed  Monterey, 

Be-domed  and  be-castled  in  pride, 
Like  reeds  in  the  tempest  before  thee  gave  way, 

Or  wrecks  on  Time's  wild  surging  tide. 


',>•>••;>  '  •'*•:?,••  :  ::></v     V'v    rr|JH 

NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  189 

The  gorge-skirted  hills  on  the  Vista's  wide  breast, 

Are  enrich'd  with  the  blood  of  the  brave, 
And  the  mountains,  Time's  monuments,  silently  re'st, 
•«. .  'Huge  sentinels,  o'er  their  broad  grave. 

Rest,  warrior,  rest,  in  thy  home  nursed  bed,      •    «    '. 

Yet  the.  battle-tinged  beams  of  thy  sun 
Will  ne'er  shed  a  halo  so  bright  o'er  thy  head, 

As  thy  kindly  forbearance  has  done. 

**    i*     j&- '  *••-'  •'•••'  •  '.< 

Spare,  comrades,  a  tear  o'er  your  Taylor's  loved  grave, 

.  Since  Heaven  has  enlisted  his  breath, 
His  name's  muster-roll'd  with  the  glorious  brave, 
And  he  only  surrender'd  to  death. 


1    , 

*      *.   !   '"  •  •** 


FRAGMENT  OF  A  NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS 

FOR  1845. 

*    ''     '  .  ;•'•:" 

*    fc* ' '  *! 

The  pen  of  time  unmended,  still  writes  on 
The  gloomy  requiem  of  ages  gone; 
And  as  the  moments  drop  in  hasty  strife, 
They  leave  but  bubbles  on  the  sea  of  life  ; 


•«».» 

1.90  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Where  are  the  hours,  the  happy  hours  when  we 
Stood  smiling,  prattling,  by  a  mother's  knee  ? 
When  unfledged  Hope  spread  out  her  cherub  wing 
Like  the  young  glories  of  the  opening  spring ; 
Wh.en  the  warm  hearth,  and  all  around  it  smiled, 
To  cheer  the  parents  and  to  bless  the  child  ; 
When  many  voices  mingled  in  the  throng, 
Or  silence  hush'd  to  hear  a  sister's  song ; 
When  truth,  like  rubies,  woo'd  the  lips  apart, 
And  kindness  wreathed  its  roses  round  the  heart ; 
When  fraud  and  meanness,  or  dull,  brutal  rage, 
Portray'd  no  villain  on  the  youthful  page  ; 

!No  slander  coil'd,  in  sullen  torpor  lay,'  . 
•    •          «  J       *  -     '*' 

Till  summer  suns  should  give  the  poison  play  ; 

And  joy  and  hope  their  soften'd  tints  impart,         , 
.Then  strikes  its  fangs  in  venom  to  the  heart : 
No  falsehood  glibly  roll'd  from  sainted  tongue, 
Warm  in  vibration  from  the  prayer  or  song; 
No  talents  wasted  where  high  hopes  were  laid, 
,Nor  gilded  vice  disgraced  the  classic  shade  ; 
No  fawning  friends  sneak'd  round,  how  falsely  named, 
To-  propagate  the  slander  foes  had  framed  ; 
But  softest,  sweetest  interchange  of  thought, 
\Vithin-the  tiny  web  of  life  seem'd  wrought. 

' ' 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  191 

'•  ' 
Seraph  of  beauty  wing  away  the  cloud, 

That  hangs  Breotian,  o'er  our  spirits  shroud,  I-.  V 

And  thou,  the  rnuse,  inspire  some  fitter  lay, 

>'  '.   »    '  v 
Well  exorcised,  to  drive  the  fiend  away.  - 

%  •  ".*,»"' 

Home  of  the  beautiful,  home  of  the  brave, 

Where  freedom's  flag  floats  over  tyranny's  grave.; 

Though  hope  folds  her  pinions  a  moment  in  night,*    % 

It  is  but  to  gather  new  strength  for  her  flight  ; 

Shall  the  name  that  the  Hampdens  and  Sidneys  made  dear, 

Be  borne  to  the  grave  without  struggle  or  tear  ? 

Shall  the  beacon  that  welcomed  the  stranger  to  rest,    •''  ' 

Be  sunk  in  the  billows  .that  broke  on  its  breast  ? 

Shall  the  stars  that  have  shone  thro'  misfortune's  dark  night 

Be  clouded  in  shame  by  a  false,  glaring  light  ? 

Oh.no,  there's  a  wail  on  the  winds — and  the  cry 

Comes  aloud  from  the  heart,  let  not  Whigery  die. 

Now  turn  we  to  the  Ashland  chief, 

Whose  name  's  on  every  nation's  leaf ; 

With  tranquil  brow,  and  eye  of  light, 

He  gazed  upon  the  unequal  fight, 

Where  truth  opposed  to  fraud  and  hate,  . 

O'er  match'd,  not  conque'r'd,  met  its  fate  : 

He  bore  the  surge-like  ocean  rOck 

Unmoved,  amid  the  billow's  shock  ; 


192  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

••'•  '  A  •  "        v 

"*     ,     t  •'•!'.'      *..,  '  .    ."          .  .  .-  .       •  "    • 

The  foam  from  mountain  waves  that  roll, 
Dims  not  the  sunshine  of  his  soul  ; 
But  as  the  spray  goes  dancing  by 
Reflects  a  rainbow  in  his  sky. 


THE   BLACK  CAP. 

*  .'      .w  i  .  '.          •""i»  ; 

•'          r     ** '  f  *  • 

I  love  to  see  the  little  black  cap  come, 

i       .  .  -% 

On  winter  mornings  round  my  cottage  home, 
With  sparkling  eye,  and  little  nut-brown  bill,.'-  * 
To  pick  the  crumbs  laid  on  the  window  sill. 

•"'--•       .  -•'*"••-  *^-'  •  *•'' 

Chirp,  chirp,  and  now  he  calls  his  mate  to  share, 

From  off  the  rose-bush  nigh  his  simple  fare  ; 
j±.    Sidles  his  wings,  in  warm  affection  due, 
And  pecks  for  her  the  larger  crumbs  in  two. 

•:'^-''-.-'.->:'    •  /•''.':-  VHff'.  -, 

Now  the  glad  sun  lights  up  the  glittering  spray, 
•Upon  the  trellis'd  woodbine  where  they  stay, 
As  back  they  flutter,  and  the  whole  day  long, 
Repay  me  for  their  breakfast  in  a  song. 


SONG.  ,    193 

And  thus  may  I  my  thanks  as  duly  pay 
To  the  great  Power  that  feeds  me  every  day;; 
And  like  the  pretty  black  cap,  kindly  share 
The  scatter'd  crumbs  my  daily  wants  may  spare. 


SONG   TO   THE   DESPONDING. 

'••  v-      * '  •  '  - 

AIR — "  The  soldier's  dream." 

>»  .'•       • 

Bear  up,  though  indignity,  insult  and  scorn, 

Like  clouds  of  the  night-storm  may  darken  thy  way  ; 

. « 
Bear  up  till  the  sun  struggles  out  in  the  morn^,  v. ' 

Ano*  gold 'drops  of  pleasure  distils  from  the  spray.' 
•'•'.'         '••'.  '  .        '•  .         '\,  v 

Bear  up — can  rude  ruffians  thy  spirit  control, 
'  Qr  wring  from  thy  bosom  at  sigh  or  a  pain  ? 
Can  midnight  assassins  wring  tears  from  thy  soul, 
Or  thy  spirit  be  fetter'd  by  calumny's  chain  ? 

Bear  up — though  the  waves  of  adversity  heave 

O'er  thy  storm-riven  bark,  till  it  logs  like  a  wreck, 

And  the  messmates  of  fortune,  the  land-lubbers,  leave 
Thy  fate  to  the  tempest  that  sweeps  o'er  thy  deck. 
17 


*  f  1  • 

194  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

r.    •-  '*    ,  »  ~  > 

Bear  up  to  the  gale — look  aloft  through  the  shrouds, 

While  lash'd  to  the  helm  in  its  rude  guiding  strife, 
As  cherubs  of  mercy  smile  through  the  dark  clouds, 
'.:   To  pilot  thee  home  o'er  the  billows  of  life. 


THOUGHTS. 

^»*-v     '  •'    .  •  •'•  'l  '     • 

"  /  x  l  '  ^ 

SUGGESTED   BY   VISITING    ROBB's    DAGUERREAN    ROOM,    DANVILLE,    KY. 
RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED    TO    THE   ARTIST. 

•  •     '      *'<       *•*''*.?»•>*'<'*•'•!*'-  ..«*.•>' 

Mysterious  power,  glad  rescuer  from  the  grave ".• 
Of  all  we  loved  on  earth,  that  art  can  save. 
The  statue  gracing  memory's  niche  may  fade, 
Yet  rise  renew'd,  beneath  thy  magic  aid. 

How  many  smiles  those  cherish'd  looks  will  bring 
To  friends  long  hence,  on  retrospection's  wing. 
Years  may  roll  on,  while  time  spare  pleasure  gives, 
And  yet  the  semblance  of  the  loved  one  lives  i 
Lives  in  the  smile  which  solaced  once  the  heart, 
And  in  its  being's  essence  form'd  a  part ; 
Lives  to  direct,  to  act,  to  think,  to  speak, 
Not  with  the  utterance  of  mortal  tongue, 
But  through  the  spirit  breathing  a  low  song 


THE    DESERTED    MAIDEN'S    LAMENT.        195 

«'  •  •  •'  '*  ^9v''  '   «4Bl 

In  soft  old  strains,  to  mind,  to  memory  dear, 

The  dying  music  of  each  by-gone  year, 

Pointing  its  finger  down  the  stream  of  life 

To  some  calm  sea,  beyond  care's  surging  strife,  t 

Where  our  frail  barks,  fast  cabled,  soon  will  be,  -    :" 

Beside  the  wharf  of  immortality. 


. 

THE   DESERTED   MAIDEN'S   LAMENT. 

He  comes  not  again,  though  the  tides  of  long  years 
Have  ebb'd  and  have  flow'd  since  he  fled  ; 

Yet  the  fountain  of  love  is  still  brimming  with  tears, 
And  sorrow  has  silver'd  my  head/  - 

The  vows  that  he  breathed  by  the  moon's  gentle  light,' 
Still  weave  a  fond  charm  o'er  my  heart ; 

"While  the  stars  that  kept  watch  on  the  bosom  of  night, 
Yet  gleam  over  memory's  chart. 

He  comes  not  again,  though  I  fancy  his  song 

Breathes  sweetly  from  every  grove, 
And  the  sound  of  his  foot  cheats  me  all  the  day  long, 
-  Yet  still  the  illusion  I  love. 


19'6  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS., 

He  comes  not  again  —while  I  wonder,  ah  me, 
If  .his  voice  has  the  same  gentle  tone  ; 

If  the  curls  on  his  brow  cluster  jetty  and  free, 
As  when  I  once  deem'd  them  mine  own.  • 

He  comes  not  again  ;  are  the  fetters  of  death 

Enchain'd  on  his  once  willing  feet  ? 
And  is  it  his  spirit's  sweet  whispering  breath,:  . 

That  musics  the  anguish  I  meet  ? 

•   t-  '  '•,»<* 

He  comes  not  again,  but  I  fancy  his  smile,  > 
"In, sunshine,  still  beckons  to  me  ; 
And  I  have  but  the  waiting  and  watching  awhile, 
To  meet  him  o'er  life's  rugged  sea. 


THE  LONE  OLD  MAN 


.         *  .     -          .        .•      •• 

My  path  of  life  is  lone  and  drear, 

I've  no  friends  left  me  no\?.;    , 

f  *.*."'  *^^  •   ' 

No  gentle  voice  the  gloom  to  cheer,' 

"•  _  .    **  T  .  |  :-..  >i_M-<lM|Ml;..  *,     ' 

That  gathers  o'er  my  brow.      ••- 

5          '     •'  *  -  *  •  •  " 


THE   LONE   OLD    MAN. 

The  summer  beams  of  early  morn, 

• 
No  kindling  joys  impart  ; 

They  light  the  gems  on  flower  and  thorn, 
But  cannot  gild  my  heart. 

'•  '-  .  '    '•'.''.'•  '    •" 

The  kindly  hands  that  closed  in  mine, 

Are  clutch'd  in  selfish  care  ; 
And  smiles  that  welcomed  "  Auld  lang  syne," 
No  more  their  greetings  share.  ,     .  •"  .; 

"•'•*>"  j.*"'''  '*•;•;  "*'; 

Age  creeps  along  with  stealthy  tread, 

While  anguish,  want,  and  tears, 
Weave  faded  chaplets  round  my  head. 
That  thorn  my  tottering  years. 

:VV«'-;  '••*'.•'  !'.'•  y-!*—**;*  -.  .  *.fi:'  -;.  r-'?/ 

Oh,  would  I  were  a  child  again, 

With  sunshine  on  my  brow  ; 
A  mother's  care  was  o'er  me  then, 

But  no  one  loves  me  now. 


;  • 

17* 


198  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

.     »  •'•  .  WW    ,  .  •*      J*--±-i 


•NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS. 

Written  January  1,  1850. 

Time's  untired  eagle  round  the  earth  once  more 
.Has -circling  flown,  while  fell  disease  and  death, 
In  hideous  form,  attendant  on  his  train, 
Has  swept  the  nations  like  a  mighty  scourge  ; 
And  taken  hence  with  rude,  'Unsparing  hand, 
VVhom  we  most  loved  and  valued  here  below. 
One  you  all  knew,  fell  victim  to  its  ire, 
Through  ministrations  at  the  bed  of  death ;.. ;i  ' 
In  placid  beauty  o'er  his  broad,  fair  brow 
Benevolence,  and  piety,  and  truth, 
Cast  a  calm  grandeur ;  and  his  mild  blue  eye 
Bespoke  a  purity  that  shrined  his  heart. 
His  palsied  hand,  for  forty  by-gone  years, 

.     .  -  •  •    t  * 

And  suasive. tongue,  had  pointe-d  out  to  youth 

The  fame  of  honor  seen  through  learning's  page, 

His  tottering  limbs  were  ever,  prone  to  stray  , 

Where  want  had  cower'd,  or  death  had  wove  a  shroud, 

And  ready  hand,  unsparingly  bestow'd 

The  scanty  crumbs  that  fortune  gave  him  here; 

His  church's  pillar,  and  its  shaken  form 


.    • 

?;••  •  ,*, 

.,  v-W.  f|;V  ;.-iW>   v.' ! 

NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  199 

•^  * r    ••*••'•' 

Disjointed,  totters  o'er  his  moulder'd  pile. 
They  crush 'd  their  promises,  and  buried  him 
Without  the  pale  of  his  own  sepulchre, 
Where  no  stone  tells  his  soon  forgotten  grave, 

His  high  nobility  of  Christian  worth, 

"•••i  •  .„•  • 

Or  boundless  latitude  of  his  great  heart. 

Nations  belligerent  wade  deep  in  blood, 
While  virtue,  valor,  crush M  by  brutal  force, 
Still  wears  the  fetters  tyrants  rivet  on. 
Yet  is  the  march  of  liberty  untired, 
While  pen  and  sword,  almighty  in  her  cause, 
Press  to  enfranchise  those  who  would  be  free. 
WTho  has  not  wept  o'er  brave  Hungary's  fall, 
And  scorn'd  the  autocrat  who  forged  her  chains? 
The  noble  Kossuth,  and  his  patriot  band, 
From  out  their  sanctuary  he  would  drag, 

And  feast,  and  fright  his  serfs  with  martyr'd  gore. 

^«  ' 

Will  nations  bear  this  sacrilege  of  law  ? 

Stragglers  for  freedom — patriots— become 

The  wide^world's  guests,  while  all  the  good  and  wise 

Of  every  land,  will  act  as  sponsors  for, 

And  safe  protect  their  charge  with  a  broad  love. 
'  "•        .  '.  * 

Oh  liberty  !  thou  first,  best  boon  of  earth, 

Thou  cherish'd  attribute  of  noble  souls,  ,' 


200  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

'   •          V'.       •.  V<JA 

Essence  divine,  that  nectars  life!s  full  cup, 

And  shores  with  gold  the  tide  of  happiness. 
'Tis  curious  through  the  mystic  glass  of  thought 
Observantly,  reflective,  to  look  on, 
And  catch  the  varied  passions  of  mankind ; 
Enshrined  in  beauty,  here  and  there  are  found, 
Bestudding  the  wide  earth,  yet  far  apart, 
Like  lumps  of  gold  in  California's  mines,   ..-.'..  .; 
The/  truly  virtuous,  and  the  generous  hearts  : 
The  world  awards  to  such  no  honest  meed, 
But  dubs  them  hypocritical,  and  puts 
.     A  cap  'and  bells  upon  their  worthy  brows. 
Amid  the  mass, , a  motley  Proteus  crew, 

'•>   *   jflRSre!1 

Venders  of  mischief,  slandering,  stfilk  abroad, 
Whetting  their  viper-fangs  in  feverish  hate, 
And  searching  every  cranny  where  to  lay 
The  egg  of  discord,  severing  the  ties 
Of  woven  friendships,  or  affections  bond  ; 
And  stumbling  on  to  their  own  hell  of  pain,  •;• 
Amid  the  scatter'd  ruins  they  have  wrought. 
These  are  but  fly-blows  gasping  'neath  the  salt 
That  saturates  the  earth,  there  let  them  writhe. 
All  nature  wears  a  general  beauty, 
And  the  seasons  roll  grandly  in  order, 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  201 

•;**  ^  :;.  .-'•  ;y 

Harmony  and  love,  shouting  in  thunder 

Through  the  dark'ning  storm,  breathing  in  flowers, 

Pictured  in  mountain,  valley,  hill  and  plain  ; 

And  in  the  glorious  stars  that  mirror  forth 

The  architecture  of  the  dome  of  heaven, 

And  in  the  mind,  whose  subtlest  workings  ne'er 

Can  follow  close,  or  comprehend  itself, 

In  all  things  here,  above,  below,  around, 

And  in  the  conscience-workings  of  our  hearts, 

And  aspirations  high,  we  deeply  feel' 

The  sacred  presence  of  a  mighty  power, 

That  breathes  in  every  thought  a  God,  a  God. 

Intemperance,  beneath  the  genial  sun 
Of  kind,  warm  hearts,  is  melting  from  the  earth, 
'Tis  only  here' and  there  a  poor  stray  sheep,. 
With  piteous  bleat,  and  fleece  all  torn  and  soil'd 
Amid  the  brambles  sown  by  folly's  hand, 
Is  sorrowing  found,  a  feeble,  lone,  doom'd  thing, 
That  feasts  on  misery,  and  idly  hears 
The  winning  softness  of  the  shepherd's  voice, 
Regardless,  passing  by  the  open  fold: 
Still,  gentle  shepherd,  do  riot  give  him  up. 

Time's  swift  progression  brings  its  changes  home, 
And  lustres  Danville  with  its  blandest  smiles ; 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


Where  shatter'd  frames  stood  trembling  to  the  gale, 
Or  old  Dutch  gables  peak'd  from  square  to  square,. 
Like  fairy-work  now  on  their  sites  are  found,    . 

....        ,t     .         .         .     j^  . 

Huge  palaces  that  beautify  the  scene, 

And  tell  of  growing  thrift  more  loud  than  words. 

The  march  is  onwards,  and  contemplates  still 

. 
Advantages  more  high,  a  railway  soon, 

The  key  of  commerce,  opening  wide  her  gates, 
And  bringing  distance  to  our  very  doors, 
Will  crowd  our  stores  with  fresh,  enlivening  trade, 
And;give  impetus  to  mechanic  power* 


LINES 

*  ,     .  .**  '••  "*  ••« 

WRITTEN"   IN    MOXTERET,    MEXICO,    OX    HEARING    OF    THE    DEATH    OF 
JOHN    B.    LAPSLEY,    OF   ELIZABETHTOWN,  KY. 

sjjif  "•  '  '  :  •  *  ' 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  bright  sunny  land, 

Where  the  good  and  the  beautiful  go  ; 
And  thy  bark  by  the  breezes  of  Eden  is  fann'd, 
Where  the  waters  of  life  gently  flow. 

Thou  art  gone  to  thy  own  native  home, 

Where  the  bliss  thou  hast  dream  'd  of  while  here, 

O'er  thy  purified  spirit  in  rapture  shall  come, 
As  angels  converse  with  thee  there. 


DESULTORY  THOUGHTS.         203 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  land  of  the  free, 

With  eternity  bounding  thy  time  ; 
Where  the  song  of  the  seraph  thy  music  shall  be, 

•    » 

In  the  land  of  the  beautiful  clime. 


.DESULTORY   THOUGHTS. 

Time's  drooping  moments  on  the  sea  of  life, 
Bathed  amid  sunshine,  roll  their  burnish'd  scales 
O'er  the  blue  depths  that  bosom  them  in  gold  ; 
Or  lashed  by  tempest  heave  huge  billowy  waves 
In  crested  grandeur  o'er  a  watery  world. 

Nations  are  motes  upon  the  wheels  of  time  ; 
The  sunset  of  their  glory  links  the  rays 
Of  their  young  dawning — all  of  art  must  fade : 
The  chisell'd  marble  bursting  into  life 
In  bust  or  statue,  and  the  pencil'd  truth 
Breathed  on  the  canvas  from  the  fires  of  soul, 
For  immortality  ;  pyramid  and  tower, 
Temple  and  palace,  and  proud  monument, 
With  all  the  gorgeous  grandeur  nich'd  in  art, 
Must  pile  the  wreck  of  matter,  and  dissolve. 

Yet  nature,  in  her  essence,  knows  no  change  ; 


204  .MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

•   ;.    JEt'  *  •'  •  "  * 

Yon  fleecy  dome  arch'd  o'er  immensity, 
Is  daily  lighted  up  from  glory's  fires  ; 
Or  dark,  besprent  with  million' d  glowing  gems, 
Like  angels  eyes-  upon  the  face  of  night ; 
The  opened  casket  of  Omnipotence, 
Set  in  the  light-house  of  eternal  love. 

What  broad  ideas  crowd  the  train  of  *mind, 
And  clog  her  wheels,  in  track  so  intricate  ; 

While  dark,  intangible,  quiescent  forms 

#i    '  %  • 

'Float  on  the  subtle  ether,  breathing  strange 
Unearthly  music  to  the  spirit's  ear ;    . 
The  shadowy,  long-lapsed  ages  dimly  come, 
Like'  spectres  o'er  the  heated  brain  of  thought, 

And  form  a  chaos  in  reflection's  world,    -.-x.l. 
rj.X'    ;  -     •'•..    .        .      .'••'•    '          » 

A  dream  beneath  the  coverlid  of  clouds. 

The  grateful  earth  with  annual  bounty  teems, 
Blushing  with  beauty,  redolence  and  love,.,  •*'•. 
In  glad  reciprocation  of  her  stores. 

The  mountain  peaks  still  cap  their  brows  with  clouds, 
,  '  In  deep,  dark  grandeur  the  wild  forest  waves  ;      >t 
The  cataract,  in  dread  magnificence 
Rolls  its  wide  volume  with  imperious  haste, 
Inf thundering  surges  to  the  broad  spread  sea 
That  bosoms  it;  a  drop  on  its  wide  waste. 


DESULTORY    THOUGHTS.  ^     205 

The  daisied  dells  in  wonted  beauty  srriile, 
Where  toil-worn  thought  broods  over  by-gone  dreams, 
And  lists  the  dainty  song  of  amorous  birds 
Breathed  o'er  sweet  odors  of  the  blossom'd  boughs ; 
Where  roses  trellis'd,  arch  the  violet's  bed;1 
And  the  young  ring-doves  coo  themselves  to  rest, 
While  the  blithe  cottager,  with  deep'ning  blush, 
Trips  o'er  the  threshold  of  her  woodbined  bower, 
And  veils  her  beauties  from  the  vagrant  eye. 

Hope's  guardian  form  in  nestling  tenderness, 

'-**.'         "  -ju. 'j    ••'"*•*  ^B»-- '•. 

Clings  to  the  sorrow'd  heart  with  anxious  care — 

Fledging  its  future  with  ideal  bliss  : 

The  night's  dark  grandeur,  and  day's  beauty  weave 

A  young  elysium  for  the  soul- wrapt  sense  ; 

While  angel  spirits  flit  around,  and  breathe 

A  new-toned  eloquence,  and  fancy  dwells 

In  palaces  of  million'd  clustering  gems, 

Forth-mirroring  their  ever  changing  hiies 

Amid  bright  fountains,  jetting  pearly  spray, 

Laving  the  petals  of  unnumber'd  flowers, 

That  breathe  sweet  welcome  to  the  silvery  flow. 

Hope  is  the  spirit  of  the  future's  smile  : 
Whose  gentle  wing,  writh  feathery  soothing  power, 
Fans  the  rank  fever  of  our  down  trod  souls  ; 
18     - 


206  MISCELLANEOUS     POEMS.' 

And  snowy  finger  eloquently  points 
To  some  far,  beautiful  and  sunny  home, 
Whose  mountains  clothed  in  hoary  grandeur  kiss 
The  matron  brow  of  slow  receding  time, 
As  stretch'd  her  arms,  towards  eternity. 
Whose  fields  are  jasper'd  o'er  with  living  green, 
And  fleck'd  with  purple  Nature's  bridal  robe  ; 
Worn  through  all  time,  not  holiday'd  in  pride ; 
Where  lucid  streams  in  rippling  music  flow, 
Whose  silver  threads  attenuated  wind 
'  *      O'er  shining  gems,  and  beds  of  sanded  gold  ; 
Dancing  in  pride  among  wild  laughing  flowers, 
Of  odors  exquisite,  and  varied  forms, 
With  tints  more  rare,  and  softly  shaded  down, 
Than  the  broad  rainbow  that  o'eroircles  them. 
The  world  's  a  crucible,  where  nature's  coin 
Fused  by  false  alcheirfy,  is  stampt  awrong  ; 
To  be  retested  at  the  mint  of  God. 
Life  's  but  a  dewdrop  pendent  on  a  flower, 
A  sunbeam  glancing  o'er  a  string  of  pearls  ; 
A  vision  of  the  future  dimly  seen,' 
A  little  snow-flake  on  a  turbid  stream, 
A  madd'ning  rush  o'er  a  dread  cataract, 
An  atom  borne  upon  the  breeze  of  time, 
Pinion'd  with  hope  for  immortality. 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  207 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS 

'  •»  •  ^.-  i 

,  '        •  '       .  .     ;.-.   ~  •  ' 

FOR  1851. 

Time's  busy  fingers  showers  her  blessings  round-,  • 
Where'er  our  eagle's  sheltering  wing  is  found  ; 
Our  mountains  teem  with  yet  uncounted  stores, 
Of  mineral  treasures,  in  rich  varied  ores ; 
Our  boundless  forests,  where  the  wild  deer  plays 
'Neath  branching  oaks,  that  bar  the  noontide's  rays  ; 
Our  giant  rivers,  where  in  gorgeous  pride, 
'Huge  palaces  float,  bounding  o'er  their  tide. 
Our  glowing  fields  stretch'd  wide  with  golden  grain, 
While  flocks  and  herds  unnumber'd  throng  the  plain  ; 
Our  meadows  waving  rich  with  green  and  gold, 
Where  the  stack'd  treasures  feed  the  neighboring  fold 
Our  well  fill'd  barns,  where  stores  of  poultry  stride, 
Around  their  doors  in  well-fed  strutting  pride  ; 
Our  spreading  farms,  where  art  and  nature  strives 
To  bless  the  ploughmen  and  their  thrifty  wives  ; 
With  rosy  children — subject  well  to  rule, 
Who  daily  lesson  at  the  neighboring  school. 


208  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

Ah,  who2d  forego,,  for  California's  gold, 
Such  home-bound  bliss,  as  we  may  here  behold ; 
Risk  health  and  comfort,  and  e'en  life  to  gain 
Uncertain  pleasures,  bought  by  toil  and  pain. 

Our  crowded  cities,  Proteus  shaped  to  please, 
In  business,  leisure,  drudgery,- or  ease  ; 
Here  gilded  opulence,  and  thread-bare  pride, 
Elbow  each  other,  strutting  side  by  side. 
Here  pleasure  spreads  her  wings  of  rainbow  dyes, 
And  sparks  of  love  are  lit  in  beauty's  eyes. 
Here  ships  of  trade,  from  every  nation  meet, 
And  the  wide  world  lays  treasures  at  our  feet, 
With  flags,  whose  hues  their  varied  countries  call, 
And  freedom's  stars  o'er  bannering  them  all. 
The  world's  broad  eye  beams  o'er  the  prospect  fair, 
In  admiration,  yet  in  jealous  care, 
Watches  the  threaten'd  sparks  that  smould'ring  lie, 
Where  interest  clashes,  or  opinions  cry"i 
Gloats  o'er  the  discord's  fierce  electric  fire, 
And  chaunts  a  requiem  o'er  our  funeral  pyre. 
May  dead'ning  palsy  strike  the  miscreant  hand, 
Would  sow  disunion  o'er  this  favor'd  land.    '  ^|".»'- 
•  Shall  the  proud  fabric,  bought  by  blood  and  tears^— 
Blood  of  our  sires— scarce  live  to  mark  their  years  ? 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  209 


Shall  fancied  wrongs,  by  North  or  South  unfurl'd, 

Distrain  the  freedom  of  one  half  the  world  ? 

Making  the  home  where  liberty  was  born, 

A  mock  and  by-word  for  the  nation's  scorn  ; 

Oh  no,  our  Cass  and  Webster,  Foote  and  Clay, 

Will  stand  like  giants  in  destruction's  way ; 

Conceding  all  that  honor  can  bestow, 

And  warding  off  to  death  the  threaten'd  blow. 

And  here,  a  tribute  due  I  fain  would  pay, 

To  my  heart's  idol,  and  the  world's  great  Clay. 

When  the  bark  of  our  freedom  was  toss'd  on  the  ocean, 
And  thunder-clouds  gather'd  around  its  fair  form  ; 
When  the  crew  disunited  grew  pale  with  emotion, 
Your  Clay  seized  the  helm,  boys,  and  weather'd  the  storm. 
When  the  pinions  of  power  darkly  flapp'd  o'er  our  nation, 
And  tyranny  bounded  our  course  on  the  sea  ; 
His  voice,  like  a  trumpet,  call'd  each  to  his  station, 
And  shouted,  Remember  your  fathers  were  free. 
And  again — when  dissension,  from  jarring  opinions, 
Or  interest  estranged  the  brave  South  from  the  North  ; 
His  eloquence  baffled  disunion's  minions, 
And,  angel  of  peace,  in  the  breach  he  stood  forth  ! 

18* 

•;•'*•*.        '  •  '     - 

«•.,':;•  Xr-  •  • 


210  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

V-,*" 

Tho'  his  locks  have  been  whiten'd  by  time's  silver  fingers, 
His  form  slightly  bow'd  by  the  pressure  of  care, 
Yet  the  glow  of  his  mind  like  the  sunlight  still  lingers, 
And  the  crew  of  the  Union  never  need  fear. 

"»     «  f'V. ':'  y.A'"'.-  "  ' 
Who  has  not  heard  of  the  great  coming  fair  ? 

'Tis  said  that  all  the  world's  expected  there ; 
CrOwn'd  heads  and  counts,  republicans  and  lords, 
Will  jostling  meet — and  bandy  loving  words. 

While  the  Glass  Palace,  a  great  nation's  toy, 

t 

Shows  the  whole  earth  below — above  all  sky. 

Wiser,  and  better  feelings  seem  to  bind 

The  world  together,  in  more  common  mind  ; 

Our  native  States  with  England  has  ally'd, 

To  join  the  Atlantic's  and  Pacific's  tide, 

While  public  works  that  erewhile  seem'd  to  stand, 

Find  ready  progress  now  throughout  the  land. 

.     »..«>'rf  ^.«  •; _» ^*  t . y~ '    *  •>* 

*  : 

But  hark,  that  wail,  deep  sorrowing  like  a  storm, 
'From  yonder  death-bed,  where  our  Taylor's  form 
Lies  pale  and  pulseless,  and  those  eyes  of  fire, 
That  flash'd  back  squadrons  inXheir  glowing  ire, 
Are  sightless  now — those  arms  no  more  will  wield 
The  glittering  blade  across  the  ensanguined  field  ; 


NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS.  211 

Nor  that  brave  heart,  once  warm  with  feeling's  glow, 
Heave  o'er  the  sorrows  of  a  vanquish'd  foe. 
Thy  fame's  thy  monument,  and  countless  years, 

Shall  bathe  its  shrine  in  consecrated  tears. 

••«•  • 

One  tribute  -here  to  yon  sweet  bird;that  brings, 
Such  soul-lit  music  on  her  generous  wings : 

Sweet  warbler  of  the  Swedish  groves, 

"  •*•  •  '    ••'^j 

Oh  charm  this  listening  ear  of  mine  ; 

Not  melody  of  angel's  loves 

Could  breathe  such  heart-felt  strains  as  thine. 
The  wildest  echoes  of  thy  hills, . 

Come  music'd  o'er  the  heart  from  thee  ; 

\ 
The  herdsman's  cry — the  murmuring  rills, 

The  nightingale's  sweet  minstrelsy*  / 
Oh  thou  hast  made  a  nation  glad, 

And  lured  its  ravish'd  soul  along  ; 
Thy  generous  hand  has  cheer'd  the  sad, 

And  thy  heart's  softness  trills  thy  song. 
Then  come,  loved  turd,  thy  warblings  bring, 

My  patrons  wait  thy  strains  to  cheer  ; 
Their  smiles  will  shine  upon  thy  wing, 

And  hearts  o'erflow  with  pleasure's  tear. 


212  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

» 

Intemperance,  with  fell,  insidious  wing, 
Still  flits  around,  its  miseries  to  bring ; 
The  gilded  bar-rooms  still  with  glittering  show, 
Attract  the  unwary  to  their  deadly  foe, 
While  some  gone  cases,  whom  I  most  deplore, 
Tip  their  sly  mutchkins  off  behind  the  door ; 
Reel  to  their  church,  upon  the  Lord's  own  day, 
And  seat  them  on  the  foremost  bench  to  pray  ; 
Bawl  out  to  Heaven  their  dolorous,  whining  cry, 
As  if  their  God  was  deaf,  or  was  not  by ;  .jjr .'* 
Stalk  round  from  store  to  store,  with  gin-fed  ire,  • 
.  And  spit  blue  ruin  in  each  neighbor's  fire, 
Till  all  the  world  avoids  them  as  .a  pest, 
And  e'en  their  church  has  deem'd  tfyeir  absence  best. 

r^,  ., •:*;*,".-•  . V "••'.,:. •:.'>, ir'-;- 

'if.     t    :  ^ i- if  •'»*,-. 

'  •  •          \f 
And  now,  one  word  about  our  thrifty  town, 

On  which  prosperity  showers  blessings  down  ; 
Its. schools  and  college  centralize  its  fame, 
And  o'er  the  Union  spread  abroad  its  name. 
Its  skill'd  mechanics,  and  its  well-filled  stores 
Bring  far-off  strangers  to  its  crowded  doors ; 
While  soon  a  railway,  bringing  distance  near, 
Will  wake  new  interest  on  the  tradesman's  ear, 
Make  it  a  depot  for  the  country  round, 
And  mart  for  each  domestic  produce  found ; 


'   ;.          '.".:    .: 

LOVE'S    SERENADE.  213 

Advance  two-fold  the  value  of  estate, 
And  bring  new  chances  to  the  poor  man's  gate 
Making  our  town  a  wharf  to  rivers  round, 
Upon  whose  shores  all  needs  of  earth  abound  ; 
And  foremost  coal — essential  to  bring  forth 
All  other  ores  of  native  mountain'd  worth — 
Making  our  village  best  among  the  best, 
The  glowing,  thriving  Pittsburg  of  the  West ! 


LOVE'S   SERENADE. 

Oh  rise  by  the  moon's  silver  light,  love, 

And  dim  the  night  gems  with  thine  eyes  ; 
The  pearls  on  the  grass  glitter  bright,  love  ; 

Oh  rise,  dearest  maiden,  arise. 
The  meadows  are  laughing  with  flowers,  love, 

And  nightingales  music  the  grove, 
Then  oh  steal  from  thy  sleep  the  bright  hours,  love, 

And  list  my  guitar  as  we  rove. 

Down,  down  where  the  rivulet's  waves,  love, 

Kiss  the  violet's  lips  as  they  flow, 
And  the  daisy  its  silver  cup  laves,  love, 

And  lilies  out-virgin  the  snow  ; 

o  ^  ^. 


.        _  .   , 

214  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

We'll  rove  where  the  blossonls  are  young,  love, 
And  odors  have  mingled  their  sweets, 

And  pearls  on  the  hawthorn  are  strung,  love, 
In  the  vine-woven  rosy  retreats. 

My  heart  for  long  years  has  been  thine,  love, 

Then  tenderly  list  -to  its  lay  ; 
Oh  whisper  through  smiles  thou  art  mine,  love, 
.    Ere  rose-clouds  unbosom  the  day. 
The  pulse  that  responds  to  my  heart,  love, 

In  ev'ry  throb  whispers  of  thee, 
Then  why  do  we  linger  apart,  love  ? 

Oh,  waken  and  wander  with  me. 


MY   HUSBAND'S   LOVE. 


INSCRIBED    TO    MRS.    M 


I  have  no  secrets  now  ;  my  husband's  love 
Has  rooted  up  .the  wilderness  of  weeds 
That  grew  about  my  childhood  and  my  youth, 
And  made  a  summer  garden  round  my  heart, 
An  Eden  rich  with  fruits,  and  streams,  and  flowers. 

I  have  no  secrets  now  ;  whene'er  his  foot 
Tells  its  soft  music  to  my  list'ning  ear, 


MY    HUSBANDS    LOTE. 

My  busy  heart  wakes  up  its  sweetest  smiles 
To  welcome  him,  and  fondest  memory  tries 
To  conjure  up  some  truth  to  cheer  his  heart, 
A  waken'd  reminiscence,  that  will  bring 
Some  loved  old  tune  to  his  glad  memory. 

I  have  no  secrets  now  ;  affection's  gems, 
In  little  noisy  pledges  play  around 
The  winter  fire-side  of  my  hopes  and  fears, 
And  sparkle  in  the  future  diadem. 

I  have  no  secrets  now  ;  my  husband's  love 
Has  been  the  magnet  unto  all  the  joys 
That  earth  can  satellite  around  me  here. 

I  have  no  secrets  now  ;  my  home  and  heaven 
Fill  every  corner  of  my  grateful  heart ; 
Nor  will  I  fear  the  inevitable  change 
That  must  ere  long  come  over  me  and  mine, 
But  bundle  up  my  blessings  carefully, 
And  like  a  traveller  wend  my  way  to  God. 


216  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


THE  HARRODSBURG  SPRING,  KY., 

Or  a  morning's  and  evening's  ramble  through  its  beautifully  wind 
ing  walks  and  Eden-like  bowers,  with  a  view  of  its  new  and  mag 
nificent  palace,  and  distant  glimpse  of  its  splendid  ball-room,  as 
the  music  from  its  full  orchestra  came  in  rich  and  fitful  cadence 

,   over  my  delighted  and  wrapt  feelings. 


RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED   TO    MISS    S.    E.    GRAHAM,    XOW    MRS. 


The  young  Aurora  shook  her  dewy  wings, 
In  balmy  fragrance  o'er  the  rural  springs ; 
The  drooping  roses  seem'd  suffused  in  tears, 
Like  gems  of  feeling,  set  mid  hopes  and  fears ; 
The  buds  were  blushing,  as  in  conscious  worth, 
And  woo'd  the  morn  to  bring  their  beauties  forth. 
The  lengthen'd  vista,  canopied  by  bloom 
Of  shadowing  locusts,  in  its  wild  perfume 
The  humble  woodbine  flaunting  here  and  there 
With  tendrils  twined,  its  neighbor's  strength  to  share, 
While  golden  flowers  just  tipp'd  with  crimson  hue, 
In  clustering  beauty  o'er  its  branches  grew. 
And  on  yon  bank  with  gems  unnumber'd  spread, 

J  i  '     t^ 

The  purple  violet  droops  its  modest  head, 

The  tiny  daisy  and  the  lily  fair, 

Waft  their  faint  perfume  on  the  ambrosial  air, 


THE   HARRODSBURG    SPRING.  217 

-V  'J^B"     "*   ';  ''JSP 

nd  wild-thyme  mingling  in  the  varied  mass, 
Tops  with  bright  purple  the  young  waving  grass ; 
The  hawthorn  blossoms,  and  the  flowering  plum 
Smiles  forth  in  freshness  to  the  bee's  wild  hum. 
How  fair  the  landscape,  here  a  sunny  glade, 
And  there,  umbrageous,  soft'ning  into  shade. 

Here  nature  rises  in  fantastic  mound, 

- 
And  there  a  vale,  with  roses  clust'ring  round. 

Here  crystal  waters  wind  in  devious  way, 
While  dark-eyed  cherubs  court  their  rippling  play. 
Here  smiles  a  bower,  by  nature  darkly  wove, 
The  sacred  haunt  of  sympathy  and  love  ; 
While  all  around  unnumber'd  beauties  cling, 
And  soothing,  pleasing  retrospections  bring. 

Lo,  where  yon  palace  rises  from  the  shade, 
With  beauty  thronged  beneath  its  colonnade  ; 
A  gorgeous  pile,  magnificently  gay, 
Where  cooling  breezes  fan  the  hours  away ; 
And  all  the  splendors  taste  or  art  can  know, 
Within  its  courtly  halls  in  grandeur  glow  ; 
Where  all  the  comforts  age  or  pain  would  share, 
Anticipation  meets  with  anxious  care  ; 
No  luxury  so  rare  but  finds  a  place 
Upon  the  board  that  daily  festals  grace  ; 
19 


218  MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 

A  scene  of  splendor,  varying  day  by  day, 
To  cheer  the  drooping  and  amuse  the  gay, 
While  one  long  round  of  pleasures  ever  new, 
In  fairy  smiles  each  moment  meets  our  view. 
'Tis  moonlight,  and  her  gentle  beams 
Fall  softly  here  in  silver  streams  ; 
While  ever  and  anon  she  shrouds 
Behind  yon  pile  of  fleecy  clouds, 
As  here  and  there  a  glimmering  star, 
Seems  following  in  her  track  afar ; 
Till,  as  the  burning  gems  unfold, 
They  stud  the  dome  of  heaven  with  gold. 
See  o'er  the  landscape,  chequering  through  the  trees, 
Whose  graceful  foliage  waves  beneath  the  breeze. 
Yon  forms  aereal  in  the  brilliant  hall, 
Like  sylphs  of  air,  their  light,  loose  shadows  fall. 
In  mazy  wildness  now  they  gliding  float, 
Footing  sweet  music  to  each  new-born  note. 
And  now  in  rapture's  giddy  whirl  they  fly, 
While  sparks  ecstatic  light  each  radiant  eye, 
And  angel  whispers  as  they  glide  along, 
Breathed  from  the  heart,  makes  eloquent  the  tongue. 

Heard  you  those  notes  of  melody  so  rare, 
In  cadence  varying  on  the  purple  air  ? 
ik ''"*••"' -': 


, 

THE     HARRODSBURG     SPRING.  219 

. 

Now  softly  undulating  on  the  ear, 
Now  warbling  wildly,  now  distinct  and  clear, 
Till  the  wrapt  strains  o'er  all  the  feelings  play, 
And  in  one  gush  of  music,  die  away. 

Long  may  refinement  court  thy  rosy  bowers, 
Thy  healin'j  virtues,  and  thy  wild  wood  flowers  ; 
And  may  the  nymph  for  whom  these  strains  arise, 
Mark  thy  warm  glowing  beauties  as  they  rise. 
May  her  light  bark  float  on  through  Tempe's  vales, 
While  gentle  zephyrs  fan  its  silken  sails, 
Till  safely  moor'd  beyond  a  sea  of  fears, 
Where  bliss  perennial  smiles  o'er  countless  years. 


THE  END. 

i 


.f» 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


REC'D  LD-URL 


MAR  2 1 1989 

'0  UM/RL 


MAR  2  2  1989 


Form  L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 


3  1158  01337  8350 


PS 

2366 

M368b 


